Shallow Waters
by V Parallel
Summary: The story follows the young girls of Kantai Academy and the IJN. While some of these girls strive to do the best they can for their country and all of humanity, others simply seek personal fulfilment in a world lost to waters. (Kagerou/Shiranui CH1-11), (Yahagi/? CH12-18)
1. Shenanigans

_Three hundred and ten quadrillion cubic meters._

She took a step back, nearly tripping over a rock half buried in sand. Kneeling, she wiped it clean and sat down. A little uncomfortable, but it would do. Watching the waves crash against the shore time and time again, she could almost forget where she was. Closing her eyes, feeling the sun beating down on her shoulders and threatening sunburn, it was easy to imagine she was on a beach in Chile, vacationing with her parents.

 _After a certain point, large numbers ceased to have any meaning. Instead, one could only try to comprehend it and fail, settling on being impressed – or horrified._

Feeling hot breath on her ear, Shiranui shivered.

"What exactly are you doing out here?" a voice whispered, not hiding its annoyance.

Sand had muffled the approaching footsteps. Shiranui immediately pulled away and stood up to face her dream's intruder.

"Oh," she said, taking sight of the girl who had snuck up on her. She let out a conflicted breath. The goosebumps on her arm, caused from the suddenness of someone whispering in her ear, hadn't yet gone away. "It's you."

The girl took the response in stride, lifting her head up high and crossing her arms.

Kagerou might have been Kantai Academy's model student. The professors loved her, she had plenty of friends and family, and she got good grades. Her looks weren't preposterous either; her brown hair was cut shoulder length and had modest yellow ribbons affixed, adding a touch of cuteness to her sharp face – well, maybe it was only so intimidating when her attention was focused on Shiranui, but the point remained.

"Class started half an hour ago," Kagerou said, as though expecting surprise on Shiranui's part.

"Then you'd better get going, you're late."

Kagerou's confidence faltered. "That's – you're the one that's late."

"And we're in the same class," Shiranui said, returning her attention to the sea.

Kagerou didn't take the hint. "You know," she began, "when I was first accepted into Kantai Academy, I thought it would be a place of higher learning, where the students were responsible and respected each other-"

There was no respect at the academy. Those wanting a safe and respectful learning environment would have been better off attending a university.

"-and everyone strived to be the best person they could be. And I believed it, for the first few days. We had no discrimination, no slackers, no disrespectful students-"

Everyone saw the world differently. Was a king bothered by the rats in the maid's quarters? No, because he never abased himself so much as to recognize the problem. He only knew what his advisors wanted him to know. He was, by his very nature, too good to know of it. Ignorance was bliss, no matter the situation.

"-but then I heard whisperings that shattered my belief, and threatened the reputation of our academy."

Even the words she used, 'respect', 'reputation', and 'responsible' – they bothered Shiranui on a fundamental level. There were more important things in the world, and getting caught up on the small would only make everything harder. She turned her head to see Kagerou getting herself worked up. It was a little cute, but at the same time, she was naive and much too uptight.

"And then I find you out here, skipping class again, not handing in your essay, and causing the student body to start whispering about the failure who's still walking the halls, and I decided I had enough. I'm putting a stop to this. No more trying to emulate a gang leader, delinquent, rebel, or whatever you think you're doing. You're coming to class. _Now._ And I will not allow you to skip any more."

She stepped forward in the sand, grabbing Shiranui's arm.

There was no one around. No witnesses. It was a terrible idea, but Shiranui was frustrated. She had been enjoying the day up until now.

"You're a little too confident everything's going to work out in your favour, _miss_."

With her free hand, Shiranui grabbed Kagerou's outstretched arm.

Kagerou let go of her immediately, and tried to pull away. "What – what do you think you're doing?"

"How's it go? The hunter becomes the hunted?"

She was stronger, but the sand would offer too much resistance if Kagerou had the chance to dig her feet in, so Shiranui acted quickly. She broke out in a run, tugging a stumbling Kagerou behind her. It took a moment before the realization occurred – that they were heading straight for the water – before the struggles turned frantic.

"Let – me – go," Kagerou said, repeatedly hitting Shiranui's arm.

"We're going for a swim."

"You're late! You can't! It's going to look weird if I'm in the bathroom so long, someone might go looking for me."

Shiranui laughed as the waves lapped up to her knees. "Then you shouldn't have lied and taken it upon yourself to bring me in."

Either Kagerou realized it was hopeless, or she didn't want to trip and fall into the water with further struggles, but she calmed down as they passed the waterline and the hem of her skirt got wet.

"Are you seriously doing this to me?" she asked, quieter.

Shiranui hesitated, but only for a moment.

Wading deeper into the water, she nodded. "If it keeps you off of me, then I don't see why not."

"It won't!"

The water was warm, and they were waist deep now. The feeling of her water logged skirt weighing her down as the waves receded was discomforting. Her panties were wet, now, and she would need to walk through campus and back to their dorm for a new pair before afternoon class – if she decided to go at all. The alternative was spending the afternoon suntanning on the beach, which was, admittedly, an appealing substitute to attending lectures.

Kagerou suddenly tried to twist her arm free, but the action failed, and Shiranui pulled her in closer, until their faces were inches apart.

Hazel brown eyes stared at her, but they weren't afraid or surprised. It was an almost unreadable expression, with a hint of anger. Kagerou was trying to keep her breathing calm, but her breaths were heavy from resisting, and, being so close to the girl, Shiranui noticed the faintest smell of sawdust. Perfume? No, it must have been her shampoo. In either case, while it was a refreshing aroma, it also served as a reminder that Kagerou was a Filles. By circumstance, there would always be a void between them.

Shiranui no longer felt angry. If this girl wanted to interrupt her, then it was fine, because revenge was always enjoyable.

"What do you mean it won't?" she said with a grin, a new thought occurring to her. "You don't mean, maybe you _like_ this?"

"No," Kagerou said, looking away while trying to pull back towards the beach.

It might have just been Shiranui's desire, but the 'no' sounded awfully unconvincing, and Kagerou was a little flustered.

"No, I didn't think so. Well, let's keep going."

They continued wading deeper into the water, and while Kagerou was still giving half hearted resistance, she hadn't distanced herself after Shiranui had drawn her in close. It was a little too quick for Stockholm syndrome to take effect, but the girl stuck close, as though Shiranui would protect her from the water.

When the waves were at their chests, their uniform's almost completely submerged, it became too much effort to pull her victim any farther. The waters were familiar, however. Feeling out with her foot, she found the drop-off point, where the sand stopped and the depths descended several meters all at once. A perfect place for swimming.

"Water's warm, isn't it?"

Kagerou nodded, biting her lower lip nervously in a way that Shiranui realized she really enjoyed seeing, especially up close.

"On three, then. One. Two-"

She pulled, exploiting the element of surprise and letting the momentum drag them into the deeper water. Kagerou, obviously not familiar with the area, tried to regain her footing, only to find nothing beneath her feet.

Shiranui laughed as Kagerou flailed for a moment before beginning to tread water.

"I – I can't believe you," she sputtered.

Positioning herself between Kagerou and the shore, Shiranui grinned. It was a nonchalant move, but Kagerou seemed to take note of her retreat being blocked off. They stared at each other for a moment before Kagerou sighed.

"It's tiring, swimming with my clothe weighing me down. I might drown."

Though she said so, it was an obvious lie. The thought of a student of Kantai Academy drowning was laughable. The ocean was to be their career; if they weren't entirely confident in their swimming abilities, they wouldn't have been anywhere near the academy.

"That's unfortunate," Shiranui said, pausing as a large wave lifted them up and then they descended into a valley between the waves, where they could no longer see the shore. "You can drown, or, there's another alternative."

Feeling out with her fingers, she began to undo the buttons on her uniform. Once done, she struggled a moment to free her arms and shed her shirt. The skirt was marginally easier. She balled up the articles of clothing and threw them as far as she could towards the shore. They only made it halfway, but she trusted the waves to finish the job.

Naked but for her black sports bra and panties, she turned to Kagerou, who stared at her wide eyed.

"I know, I'm pretty jaw-dropping. So, if you don't want to drown, feel free to follow suit. It's really liberating."

She settled into a back float, closing her eyes but listening closely in case Kagerou tried to sneak around her and back to shore.

"You're unbelievable."

Shiranui popped open an eye. "Not going to strip? A shame. You know, I feel like I should set the record straight, here. I'm not a bad person."

"No, just a bad student, I suspect."

"At the very least, I did do my essay. I just handed it in yesterday."

"Premeditated skipping," Kagerou translated.

"Sure. Something like that."

"Look away."

"What?"

Kagerou splashed her. "You heard me. Look away. I can't undress with you watching me."

"Aha. Welcome to the dark side," Shiranui said, obediently looking away. "We'll start a gang, like you said earlier. Kantai Academy's first real gang. We can recruit members and the initiation can be dragging them out into the ocean and making them swim in their bra and panties."

"That's perverted," Kagerou said, huffing with exertion.

"I mean, we could do worse. Force them to skip class and spend the day at the beach, enjoying the nice weather."

"Very funny. Alright, I'm done. Race you to the buoy."

Even before Shiranui had the chance to turn around, she saw a wet pile of cloth sailing over her head, and then the sound of Kagerou's feet kicking up the water.

Shiranui wasn't the fastest of swimmers, but she did pride herself on her endurance. It, unfortunately, wasn't enough. Even though she was closing distance towards the end, she still lost by five seconds.

"I think," she said, reaching out to grab the buoy, "if we take into account your head start, that was a tie."

Kagerou turned to give her a doubtful look.

"Polka dotted." It took Shiranui a second to realize she had been duped. "Cheater!"  
Kagerou wasn't wearing a bra. She wore a white bikini, polka dotted black. It fit nicely, showing a modest chest that was previously hidden by the academy's standard issue uniform.

Kagerou, blushing, covered herself with her arms. "Can you please refrain from making such unnecessary comments?"

"But why-" Even as she said so, it wasn't altogether surprising. There had to have been a few students who loved water so much they always wore their swimsuits underneath their uniforms.

"I was thinking of going for a swim after school today." Her eyes darted back towards the shore and the roof of one of the new school buildings that was just barely visible. "Are you satisfied, now? Can we return to class like proper students now?"

Shiranui sighed. "Go ahead. I had my fun."

Despite the offered freedom, Kagerou didn't move. She shook the buoy until Shiranui lost her grip and was forced to begin treading water again.

"What's your problem?" she demanded. "Don't you recognize the opportunity you have? How many people are relying on us – how many resources are being given to us, for a chance to save the world? Is this not important enough for you?"

"Don't say that," Shiranui said.

All at once, she was reminded of who the girl was, in front of her.

Karegou, the type of student that the Kantai Project was searching for and adored. The type of person who loved swimming so much that she always wore her swim suit, and was so intent on obtaining the title of 'Miss Perfect' that she thought she had to turn the class delinquent into an obedient student. She was the type who was necessary, for the project was to be successful.

If cloning technology hadn't been lost, they might have just cloned her a couple hundred times and skipped the first phase of the project. Instead, Kagerou was one of kind. Out in the water, floating next to her, shouting at her, Kagerou was the valuable one. She was alluring, like a siren, yet her anger reminded Shiranui how different they were. She was optimistic and full of hope, but had she ever questioned why she needed hope? Why the world had gone to hell, in the first place?

"Fine. I won't. Maybe I won't say anything to you."

Kagerou turned away and began swimming towards shore. Shiranui made no move to follow. Instead, she turned the opposite direction, and began to swim. There was no land ahead, and the waves relentlessly fought her progress, but she didn't care. Eventually, her muscles began to feel sore. She looked back towards shore. Two kilometers, maybe more, she estimated.

Three hundred and ten million cubic kilometers.

Expressing the amount in kilometers made it smaller by a factor of a billion, yet at the same time, her brain tried and failed to imagine even a single cubic kilometer of water. In high school, her favorite topic was physics. It wasn't her curious nature that spawned her obsession, but rather her appreciation of everything working under one, logical system. Predictable, understandable. There was always a reason behind actions, the 'why' that drained it of secrets.

When the world began to die, people were asking why. How? When the invaders arrived, the public stopped asking the questions. It was easier to blame the extraterrestrial beings. It didn't matter, that there wasn't enough hydrogen or oxygen on the planet to explain the 'how'. It didn't matter, because everyone was focused on fighting the invaders – focused on short term survival.

And even that was a losing battle, but humans were stubborn.

Shiranui began hyperventilating. Taking deep breaths and exhaling as much as possible, she repeated the exercise for a minute, clearing her lungs. Then, with a single, large breath, she descended under the water.

She kicked a few times to get deeper and away from the waves which would unsteady her.

Shiranui opened her eyes.

It was a good day. The sunlight penetrated farther than she could ever remember. She stared at the world hidden beneath the waters, and she didn't feel anger. She felt nothing, staring at the deserted city.

There was a large motel sign, directly underneath her. Squinting, she could see a parking lot beneath it. Abandoned cars were scattered haphazardly across the pavement, ignoring the painted lines and parking spaces. The vehicles were rusted from the salty water, and electrical poles were skewed into the ground at an angle, their wires broken and drifting uselessly in the currents. A school of fish passed by, making a wide detour around a truck whose glass windows were missing. Shiranui spotted something inside the truck's cabin which was moving among the shadows. One of the ocean's many predators, who were thriving in the new world.

Her eyes began to sting, but she persisted. By coincidence, she told herself, she had chosen a familiar location. She began to swim and, within minutes, a submerged field came into sight. The grass grew long, somehow flourishing in its newfound habitat. Seaweed was mixed in, here and there, creating a lush, green area that might have been appropriate for the bottom of an aquarium. It was a place where she had played nearly every day with her friends.

Her lungs began to ache, but she didn't ascend. Not yet.

Her middle school was a sad sight to behold, and she wondered, idly, whether she might have began to cry if she weren't underwater.

Sandbags were stacked against the doors, as though everyone waited for the final day before retreating – but that wasn't the truth. Some people couldn't run. They had been running for years, and ran out of places to go. The water hadn't shown any signs of stopping, and either they gave up, were too tired and injured, or couldn't afford to keep moving, so they choose the school as their final resting place.

Many people welcomed death, after losing everything they had.

Windows were broken. Every single one of them was shattered to some degree, though Shiranui couldn't imagine it had been from water pressure. Someone had broken them intentionally, for an unknown purpose. That someone was probably long dead, but no bodies were visible.

Just beyond the school parking lot and before the road, she could see the faded sign post. Some characters were still in place within the glass shielding, but others had fallen to the bottom, creating the look of a failed marionette party.

Instinct told her to return to the surface, but she fought it. There was just one more thing to see.

She kicked her legs, striving to make it around the school's corner. Her lungs protested the effort, but she ignored her body's warnings.

Slowly, it came into sight.

The back wall of the school, white painted brick, had been covered, bottom to top, with graffiti.

 _It's your chance to leave your mark, for future generations to see._

When the school had been shut down, the children were scared. The teachers had brought out markers and gave one to each kid, telling them to write a message on the wall to someone they missed, or a note for their future self. She could remember the afternoon. It was winter of four years ago. She was struggling in class, learning English and Japanese while trying to get good grades in the sciences, which her parents always praised her for, and she had been angry, because her parents left the country, again, for work.

The individual writing was too far away, too deep in the water for her to read, but she quickly located her own, written four years ago in messy, middle schooler writing. It was a promise. A week after the school was abandoned, a courier had visited their house, delivering the news of her parents' deaths. She had been lost and confused, and had latched onto the promise she'd made. That had been her motivation for years. It had become her life's goal, without her realizing it until it was too late. An obsession and an obligation.

The secret she must unravel.

 _I will find the source of the water, and stop it._

Though it had mostly stopped by itself, in the past couple years, it would still be catastrophic if it continued at even one meter a year. Kantai Academy was, in her eyes, a stepping stone for achieve her goals. She had made her promise at thirteen years old, and she was now seventeen years old.

* * *

Seventeen years ago, an anomaly in the world's' oceans occurred, and the water level began to rise. It was not due to global warming, or at least not entirely. The icebergs of the arctic did not begin to melt, nor did the global average temperature change by any significant amount. Yet the oceans continued to rise, and, at an alarmingly fast rate, farms and cities began to submerge. The first things lost were the harbours all around the world. The United States and China, two of the world's largest exporters of goods, suddenly found their economies grinding to a halt, as their major cities could no longer export or import goods.

Thirty five meters a year, for fifteen years. During the last two years, it had slowed and everyone thought they were safe. They decided the Flooding was over, and they were in the aftermath, which would stop in the next year or so. There was no reason to believe it, but people somehow remained optimistic.

Since 1922, more than half the world had submerged, the water level had risen nearly six hundred meters, and billions of people had died. Starvation, dehydration, disease, murder. The world had descended into complete chaos, and it was then when the aliens arrived. Three years ago, when everyone was busy watching the waters, the extraterrestrials arrived from space to add to the growing list of problems which humanity faced.

The arrival of the aliens, however, did not concern Shiranui. Kantai Academy was a stepping stone for her, to achieve her goals and, if at all possible, reverse the Flooding. She did not want to kill Abyssals, nor did she want to fight in a war. Others would focus on the current battle, against the extraterrestrials, but even if they won, their world wouldn't be habitable after they finished licking its wounds.

What concerned Shiranui was, from seemingly nowhere, three hundred and ten million cubic kilometers of water appeared on Earth, overflowing the oceans without warning or explanation.

She would explain it, and she would stop it, before the entire world was consumed.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'll primarily use the A/N to note interesting things I find in my research, but we'll start slow. Also, I no longer play the game and haven't watched the anime, so I apologize for any inconsistencies or OOC.


	2. Respect

It was the first day of school, and Kagerou didn't know what to expect. Homework? Group work? Kantai Academy was the equivalent to post secondary education, so surely they wouldn't be subjected to silly activities such as taking turns for introductions, and being forced to say something interesting about themselves. What would Kagerou even say? She panicked a little. Being boring wasn't good. Lying was worse. She couldn't say anything about her grades because it would seem like bragging and it would be, essentially, social suicide. In high school, she had learned people didn't talk about their grades, as though it were some sort of unspoken taboo. It didn't matter if she scored in the top ten on the entrance exams. She had no pets with silly names, no odd skills like juggling or reciting the alphabet backwards-

What if they were tested again? She hadn't had a chance to study since the completion of the tests, even though she'd already bought the required texts. Suddenly, the thought of walking into her first class having not even opened the booked seemed extremely stupid. It was entirely possible they were planning to weed out the unorganized and irresponsible students by giving a surprise quiz on the first day.

Beyond that, what was expected of her? Would there be clubs, or did the academy forgo such frivolities, in favour of serious training? What about food? How expensive was the cafeteria food? And, not that it mattered, since she brought her own lunch, but was it even any good? And how would she make friends, when so many students lived on campus and had already met yesterday? She was already behind in getting to know people.

In her pocket, her hands brushed against something. It took her a second to remember she had transcribed her schedule onto a spare piece of paper earlier that morning. Pulling it out, she read it for the hundredth time. There were only four courses in a single day, and eight altogether in a single semester. The schedule alternated the courses every other day, with Sunday off, so they would be learning for approximately forty hours a week, not counting homework. Additionally, Fridays only had three lectures and ended early, as if the academy wanted to show how nice they were.

Her first course of the day, and her first ever at the academy, was history. It had been explained to her that it wasn't a typical history course. The focus was exclusively on wars – what people did and what worked versus what didn't work. Understanding the decisions made at the time from presidents to platoon leaders down to the individual soldiers on the battlefield was a critical component of the course. Successful students would be able to extrapolate information from the wars studied and be able to apply them to their own situations out in the field.

After history, she had fitness. The recruiter had told her it was very similar to the high school and middle school physical education courses, except the losers faced a penalty. Fitting with the theory that the Kantai Project wanted only the best of the best, the penalties were often quite serious. Rather than being difficult, they were time consuming, which was much more hated because it meant their busy days were even longer, and they had less time for homework and sleep. It was, however, an effective way to motivate everyone to do their best.

Punishments consisted of trivial tasks, such as cleaning the bathrooms or the shooting range, or cleaning the swimming pools or the classrooms...

Kagerou frowned. Was it just her, or was the academy using them as janitors? It seemed silly, considering the Kantai Project had financial support from the government. There was no tuition, and for students without parents, if they scored high enough on the entrance exams, the dorm rent was waived, among a handful of other fees.

Nonetheless, the threat of a penalty made everyone put their best foot forward, rather than relying on the other students on their team. There was also the motivation of grades being directly dependent on the outcome of the various matches, so fitness class was a double threat that Kagerou knew she couldn't underestimate.

The activities themselves were usually team based, she had been told, and they changed every class. Often times, the games took place in water – diving, water polo, freestyle laps, kayaking – but other times it was a sport like soccer or volleyball. Occasionally, as if the academy wanted to remind their students that it wasn't just a cutthroat educational system, they included simpler games like tag, hide and seek, or dodgeball. Rumour was, those were always the most vicious.

Lunch was an hour long, and Kagerou had woken up early in the morning to make a ham sandwich. It wouldn't take an hour to eat her sandwich, so she would have time to prepare for her afternoon courses.

After lunch was one of the more stereotypical war courses, strategy. When everything relied on the soldiers on the field, these soldiers relied on three things: instinct, strategy, and their allies. Those who didn't have the proper instincts, and who couldn't have those instincts drilled into them, failed during one of Kantai Academy's two entrance testing phases. Since graduates of the academy were all held to the same level, they were also able to rely on their allies without fear, so the only factor left to consider was strategy.

Some people were natural strategists; they could easily shift mindsets to see exactly how their enemy would interpret a situation, and it would be a trivial course for them, but for everyone else, the theory would perhaps be the most challenging aspect of the academy. There was supposedly a little leeway in the course, however. Since not every student would be leading a fleet, it wasn't necessary for everyone to be a perfect strategist. Some of the higher scoring students would be moved into a specialized course in the second semester, where they would learn advanced theory, but for most, they just needed satisfactory work to be able to move on.

The final course of the day was communications. While cryptology and encryption were intimidating subjects, nobody knew the communication capabilities of the enemy, so everyone had to be well versed in these fields. The inability to know when communications were intercepted meant that caution had to be used at all times. But it wasn't just limited to keeping messages safe. In time sensitive situations, out at sea, combatants had to be able to communicate swiftly, meaning code words were essential to communicate entire strategies in seconds, and abbreviations and acronyms had to come naturally, like their mother tongue. A split second hesitation could mean the death of one of their allies. There was also a large practical component to this course, because radios were complicated, fickle machines that oft needed to be fixed out on the battlefield.

* * *

A little over a week had passed since Kagerou fell into a busy schedule. Waking up early, she would eat and prepare for school, which was a twenty minute walk from her apartment, and then after eight hours of grueling lessons, she would make it home in time for a quick snack and then the evening shift at her part time job. By the end of the day, she'd only ever had half a mind to throw some words onto paper for her homework, find something that would fit in the microwave oven, burn it, and consume it before collapsing in bed.

Gone were the lax days where she could plan a meal and go grocery shopping, and cook enough to have leftovers for days.

Today was Friday, however, and it brought a smile to her lips. There were only three classes that day, meaning she would have a couple hours in the afternoon completely free. While spending it catching up on her sleep seemed like a good idea, she also felt it would be a waste. It was a chance to experience something different, and forget her stresses before she had to make it to work.

After a short debate, she settled on spending the time at the beach. Since she'd enrolled at Kantai Academy, the only time she'd spent in water had been stressful. Not wanting to develop a relationship between water and stress, she decided spending an afternoon swimming and suntanning.

"Kagerou!"

"Morning, Michishio."

Her self-proclaimed best friend since day one jogged a short distance to join her in walking to the school. Worrying about making friends had been silly.

"You're running a little late, today," Michishio said, straightening her backpack.

"I wanted a little more sleep."

"Don't worry about it," Michishio said with a casual wave of her hand. "Everyone falls asleep in class once in awhile. Just be glad it wasn't Ms Kashima's course. I hear her detentions scare even the rest of the staff."

Kagerou had been trying very hard to forget yesterday's incident, and it had actually been out of mind for nearly an hour. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she picked up speed. Michishio's warning about running late was making her paranoid. It was supposed to be a good day.

"I wasn't worrying about it until now. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

It was two minutes before class started, according to her watch, and she managed to claim a window seat even though she wasn't as early as usual. Binder out, she flipped through it to find the first blank page. In her neatest writing, she wrote 'September 15th, 1939' in the top corner of the page. Then, she titled the page 'Abyssal Theory I – lecture IV'.

She stared at it a moment, before sighing and pushing the binder away. She hadn't capitalized 'lecture'. It was a small thing, but that was why she should have managed it perfectly. Maybe the extra sleep didn't do her any good, she thought as she stared lifelessly out the window.

A few people were still making their way into the school grounds, but the sight of one person _leaving_ caught Kagerou's attention. It might have escaped her notice, if the girl didn't have short, pink hair. She walked with purpose, leaving the school grounds and turning right, heading in the direction of the ocean outlook. It took a few seconds before Kagerou realized the girl was from their class.

"Hey, Michishio?" she said, still looking out the window despite the girl no longer being in sight.

"Yeah?"

"There's a girl in our class-"

"Yes, there's lots," another voice responded. "In fact, it's exclusively girls."

"Very funny," Kagerou said, turning around. "Good morning, Arashio."

In complete honesty, Arashio might not have been joking. She had a way of being so completely air-headed at times, but she was able to understand the most complex topics when it mattered. It might have been a facade, to leave her opponents off balance, but unless Kagerou was being completely duped, she didn't think Arashio had it in her to deceive others. The girl was too honest.

Even her looks screamed 'honest'. So many students wore ornaments in their hair or searched for some way to skirt the academy's rules and be unique, but Arashio's straight brown hair, brown eyes, and gentle smile were refreshingly simple. Conversing with her was always enjoyable and she seemed to have an unending number of friends. Case in point, she joined their conversation without anyone so much as batting an eye.

"Short pink haired girl," Kagerou clarified. "I think she's been absent a few times."

Arashio nodded immediately. "Miss skipper."

"Skipper?" Kagerou said, her mind immediately envisioning the pink hair girl commanding a sailboat on the high seas.

"She skips class," Arashio clarified.

"Oh."

"And her name?" Michishio asked on Kagerou's behalf.

"Shiranui. Like the the French word 'ennui', she's kind of boring. Doesn't talk much. Even getting her name felt like I was stepping past some personal boundary."

"I guess she's going to drop out?" Michishio said. "Is she an Orphan or a Filles?"

"An Orphan, most definitely, though I hadn't had it in me to ask, I'm quite confident in this. She's in dorm building A, and it might seem like she's going to fail, but at the same time I almost find myself doubting it. Her lack of interest in the lectures is odd, but I feel like there's something more going on with her. She might secretly be a genius who plans on acing all the exams and failing all the essays and assignments."

"That's not right," Kagerou muttered, looking out the window.

Shiranui sounded like a disrespectful student who needed to be given a stern talking to.

"She have any friends in this class?"

Arashio hummed, stepping towards the wall to lean against it. She dropped her backpack on the seat behind Kagerou. "Not in this class. I'm trying to think if she has _any_ friends at all. I was previously working off the theory that she was in a gang with some second year students, but it fell apart when I discovered the gang was actually an after school Menko club."

Both Kagerou and Michishio kept silent, sharing perplexed glances with each other.

"I saw her exchanging some heated words with Arare, one evening, but I certainly wasn't under the impression they were friends. Seemed like, I don't know, co workers? But no, aside from that, Shiranui keeps to herself."

"I see. Thanks for the information, Arashio," Kagerou said, turning to her own thoughts as Michishio and Arashio began a new conversation relating to hair dye or something of the sort.

One of Kagerou's greatest fears, a week ago, had been that she wouldn't make any friends at Kantai Academy. It had been decisively proven wrong, when Michishio latched onto her because they shared the same hair style. Since then, she'd befriended another half dozen girls in the Destroyer class A – with Michishio's help – and her social life had been secured. She had a social life, a career in the making, and a part time job to stall the approaching bankruptcy. If not for the high levels of stress and little sleep she got, she would almost be able to say she was successfully recovered from the loss of her family.

But it bothered her, the possibility that Shiranui had potentially undergone the same horrors, yet hadn't been able to recover. If she had lost her family, and latched onto the Kantai Project as a way of finding her self worth, only to realize she was still alone, when everyone around her was making friends...

Kagerou rose to her feet.

"Bathroom," she explained when she drew the attention of her friends.

* * *

Reality differed greatly from what Arashio had said. Shiranui was supposed to be a quiet, lonely girl, not a laughing, energetic maniac, and Kagerou was supposed to be nice, offer friendship, and bring her back to class, not end up soaking wet, confused, and having said only rude things to the girl she had wanted to help.

Kagerou dragged herself out of the water, clutching the bunched up cloth that was her school uniform. Collapsing onto the beach, she winced when she realized she would now be covered in a thousand grains of sand that would take forever to wash off her in the shower. She should go straight home – give up on classes for the day and take the newfound time to catch up on her sleep before she had to go to work.

Casting her eyes out towards the sea, she couldn't see Shiranui. Even thinking of the girl drove her insane. Would it kill Shiranui to show some respect to others? The professors weren't fools; they knew who was skipping class and who was putting in genuine effort. But it didn't concern Kagerou. If only she could turn her back and forget about the rebellious student, everything would be fine.

Her mind kept conjuring up images of the girl, however. Shiranui's flustered reaction, when Kagerou had whispered in her ear. Her discomfort, hidden behind a casual, dismissive response. Her messy, careless style and short pink hair that made her recognizable from any distance. Her tanned skin, all the more visible when she stripped her clothes out in the ocean. Her wet sports bra, clinging to her chest to reveal a toned and well-worked body.

Kagerou shook her head. She was pretty sure she wasn't attracted to delinquents, but Shiranui's defined abs, her surprisingly easy-going laugh, and her uncertain allegiance to the Kantai Project all kept dragging the girl back into Kagerou's mind.

After five minutes, Kagerou gave up. Maybe Shiranui had drown, or she'd gone ashore farther down the beach. There was no point in waiting. Reluctantly, she dressed herself in her wet clothing and left the beach, climbing the short flight of stairs to the road. It was a twenty minute walk to her apartment, and she set a fast pace, creating a to-do list in her mind. She had planned to go swimming after class, not _during_ class, but now it would be struck off the list entirely.

She needed, first and foremost, to wash the salty grime off her body. If she didn't do that, she wouldn't be able to concentrate, or even go to work without feeling dirty, as though she were sweating from a half marathon. Then, she might see what she could do about food. Her shift ended late in the night, and by then she was usually too exhausted to handle both cooking herself supper and attending to her homework. If she could get started on her dinner early, maybe make something she could microwave when she got home late at night, everything would proceed much smoother.

And laundry. She had to have her school uniform cleaned for tomorrow morning because of Shiranui's shenanigans.

A construction worker with a familiar face waved to her, and she nodded back. Her childhood had been during the Flooding, so it felt like constant construction was a natural part of any city, along with the accompanying noises, but she'd seen photos from before the Flooding, and heard stories from her parents that indicated otherwise.

Nowadays, however, manual labour was a large part of the economy, and still growing. People believed the Flooding was over and sea level increase per year was decaying. Two years ago it had been fifteen meters, last year five, and this year was on course for only one meter. The government started creating countless construction jobs, for roads, apartments, factories, and stores, all the while hoping none of it would be flooded and society could start rebuilding itself properly, without worrying about having to move to higher land in the span of a few years.

Kagerou remained optimistic that they were right. Since the arrival of the Abyssals, the Flooding had started to slow to a stop.

The road leading to the beach was eight meters above sea level, and Kantai Academy itself was fourteen meters above sea level. Nothing was in danger of flooding immediately, which meant the Abyssals took a greater precedence. The water level didn't matter if the extraterrestrials killed all human in the next few years, which they seemed capable of doing.

* * *

 **A/N:** This is alternate history, so don't mind the anachronisms and inconsistencies – I'm looking at you, microwave ovens. The British discovered the use of microwaves for cooking during WWII, when they were working on radars to detect Nazi planes, and it was patented in 1946.


	3. Diving

Kantai Academy was a renovated, repurposed university. The campus was a massive sprawl of buildings, fields, and parking lots. Most of the lecture halls were in the largest buildings, which were clumped closest together at the center of the campus. These were the buildings that were most used, aside from three of the five dorm buildings which had been renovated for student housing.

The rest of the buildings lay abandoned. Even with government funding, it wasn't practical to clean and maintain the buildings, renovate them where necessary, and spend electricity to keep the places cold – or heated during the summer – and lit. As such, nobody used these buildings, and they were dark and dusty, suitable for filming horror movies in.

The administration had chosen three dorm buildings for the students. There were over three hundred students, but only two thirds of them lived on campus. The rest had families or enough money to live in town, and they took the bus to campus every morning. The dorm buildings each had three floors, and approximately twenty students per floor. They could have squished more people into each dorm building, but wisely chose not to. A certain segregation was necessary.

The dorm buildings were named 'A', 'B', and 'C' by the ever-so-affectionate staff. Second year students had been a little more creative. Initially, they were going to go with the Alpha, Beta, Gamma naming scheme, but someone had offhandedly mentioned it would mean Alpha students were superior to the others because it came first in the Greek alphabet, which had sparked an uproar. By the time deliberations were complete, the buildings were unofficially named 'Awesome', 'Beautiful', and 'Cool'.

This, among other things, were the small reminders that no matter who they were or why they were training to become soldiers, they were still young and immature girls.

Unfortunately for the second year students – who had chosen the names during their first year – administration had saw fit to rearrange usage of the dorms. All the second year students were moved exclusively into Beautiful dorm, and the first years were split between Awesome and Cool. Destroyer class students, the most common specialization, were put into Awesome. Barring a few exceptions, the rest of the first years were in Cool dorm, and rumour was going around that someone, who had visited the staff room, had seen papers designating a dorm named 'D' for renovation. Since the Kantai Project consisted of only three semesters at the academy, most people dismissed the rumour as false. There weren't enough students to necessitate another dorm building being cleaned and opened.

Beyond splitting the students by dorm and specialization, there was another major division in the ranks, which the administration had tried to dispel, but hadn't been successful. This division was, roughly, between those who lived on campus and those who didn't. Students who had lost family, and were exempt from tuition, moved from one of the island's many orphanages to Kantai Academy's campus. They were called, not-quite-so-affectionately, Orphans.

Cliques and social groups from high school didn't carry over to the academy, similar to how they didn't persist at universities. These preconceptions were destroyed, and everyone was left to rebuild their reputation and, in same cases, reinvent themselves. It came, therefore, to great disappointment to the staff, that the students had found themselves in one of two factions: Orphans or Filles.

The Orphans were those who, found at one of the copious orphanages around the island, scored highly on the first 'scouting' exam. When they passed the second exam – the entrance exam – they were granted free rent at the dorms, free meals, and an allowance of ten thousand yen per month.

It was a fair trade, and they always accepted the opportunity. After all, there was no chance for adoption if they remained. Since the world flooded, too many adults had died. Instead, orphans were generally left to their own devices once they turned eighteen. Either they would remain at the orphanage and become an employee, or they would leave and wander the streets, homeless. The Kantai Project offered shelter, food, and a career all for free. The cost – dedicating themselves to learning and then fighting in a war and risking their lives for their country – seemed small, when they looked around at the state of the world and the people leading hopeless, unfulfilling lives all around them.

The Filles, on the other hand, had mothers and fathers, or at least some relative with whom they lived. Inspired from the French word 'fille', meaning 'girl', it conjured up images of rich, young woman who attended private schools in Paris – which had, coincidentally, flooded over a decade ago – carrying parasols and stopping at coffee shops on their way to their schools. Most wore makeup, were refined, polite, and beautiful, and generally seemed at odds with the reality of the world around them – or at least, that's how the Orphans saw them.

There were also people who said the name 'Filles' was derived from 'filial', because they had family, whereas the Orphans did not. In either case, the divide had been immediately apparent last year, when the academy had accepted its first wave of students. Classes were already divided by specialty – destroyers, cruisers, and carriers all kept separate – and competition was fierce, but students quickly realized they belonged in one of two groups, the Orphans or the Filles.

It become the social norm for there to be tensions between the group. Some Filles would scorn the Orphans, and some Orphans, due to jealousy and anger, would look upon the Filles with contempt. Even for those who didn't care for the self-imposed labels, it became difficult to approach someone of the other group. Either they were afraid of being rejected by the one they tried to befriend, or they were afraid of being rejected by their own group when they were seen cavorting with the so-called 'enemy'.

Through the best efforts of the staff, they had quelled much of the infighting, but on September 4th, when the new first year students arrived, even without instigation by the second years, the same pattern began to develop.

* * *

"Are you ready, Kagerou?" Michishio asked.

Kagerou nodded, looking over the edge towards the ocean far below. They were atop a cement pad that rose fourteen meters high and was extended far over the water. Three diving boards stretched beyond the cement, though only one was being used at a time. It was fitness class, and they were supposed to dive into the water and retrieve rings from the ocean floor. A test in part bravery, endurance, and physical strength. Slow swimmers or those who couldn't hold their breath long enough wouldn't be able to retrieve a single ring for their team.

Instincts were important too. The distribution of the rings was random, and there was a chance some would be hidden by debris or other obstacles under the water. Kagerou would need to quickly orientate herself towards the floor bed, spend a couple seconds plotting out what was feasible to retrieve, and then swim as fast as she could.

Fourteen meters was a massive height. Though most of the students stood confident, she was pretty sure it was a false bravado like her own. More than five stories separated themselves from the ground. Turning away from the ocean, they could even see the roofs of the academy's buildings.

As if to confirm her thoughts of how terrifying it would be to jump, the girl who had just stepped out onto the board retreated, shaking her head, almost in tears. Her group of friends quickly surrounded her, some patting her on the back and offering reassuring words.

"You're really ready?" Michishio said.

"I'll go before you, if that's what you want."

"Let's watch the other team first."

They were alternating dives, and the score was three to two in favour of the opposing team, which comprised of four fifths Orphans.

When Kagerou saw the next diver, she pushed her way to the front, determined to get a good viewpoint.

"Oh, it's Miss skipper," Arashio said, appearing at her side. "Let's see how she does."

Shiranui was in a one piece swimsuit provided by the school, as most of her team was. She stretched her arms up above her head, rolling her neck from side to side. Her team was shooting her undisguised looks of impatience. Out of the sixteen divers so far, only a third of them had retrieved rings, so the pressure was mounting. Shiranui didn't seem to mind, however, and was taking her time. As though alone on the diving board, she hadn't acknowledge anyone since her turn had begun.

Kagerou watched, entranced, as the girl stepped out, breathing deeply. Springing up and down on the balls of her feet, testing the board's flexibility, Shiranui reached the edge and peered down. She frowned, took three large steps back, and then took off with a half jog. Her last step was a small hop, and then she left the board with a jump, momentarily arcing upwards before gravity took over.

Unlike most fitness activities at the school, this one was dangerous. A miscalculation, or a bad dive, and the jumper risked a broken arm, if they were lucky. Death wasn't off the plate, from the height they were starting at. There were second year students down at the beach below, who were acting as lifeguards, but it only made the activity marginally safer.

Shiranui took the challenge to a whole new level. As though she were an Olympic diver, she executed a series of twists in the air, finishing with a somersault before disappearing into the water below. The splash she made was unexpectedly small and quiet, not fitting of a human body entering the water from a fourteen meter fall. Furthermore, and Kagerou couldn't believe it was a coincidence, Shiranui had entered in between two large waves, immediately disappearing from sight as the waves rolled past.

It was doubtful the girl _wouldn't_ score for her team.

From the platform above the ocean, the students took to muttering. Some girls on her own team sounded outraged that Shiranui thought to perform acrobatics during such a cutthroat competition. The girl's team, however, were eagerly watching for signs of her resurfacing, no longer daring to whisper about her incompetence.

After a minute passed, more people approached the edge of the cement pad, though they made sure to cling to the rail guard as they peered into the waters below. There was no sign of the girl resurfacing. All but one or two of the previous divers had been under for less than a minute. The competition was much harder than simply holding their breath; the physical exertion required to swim the remaining distance to the ocean floor, and then scour it for rings, greatly increased oxygen consumption and reduced the time they could stay underwater.

When would she resurface?

Kagerou tried to look away, but found it near impossible. Her heart pounding, she inexplicably began to grow more nervous about Shiranui than her own upcoming dive. She watched each wave, scanning along the water, trying to see a human form surfacing, but nothing appeared.

"Kagerou. Calm down." Michishio stepped next to her.

"Huh?"

"Your hands. You're clutching the railing a little too hard."

Kagerou pulled her hands away, looking at them. A white stripe across her palm indicated how tightly she'd been holding the rails. When she noticed her hands were visibly shaking, she returned them to the rail in a more gentle grip.

"I wonder what happened to her," Michishio said.

"Don't say that."

It was stupid, to be so concerned for a near stranger, yet Kagerou couldn't help it.

"You're pale." It took a moment for her to realize Michishio was still talking to her.

At the same time, the second year students on the beach below stood up.

"It's been over two minutes," she heard someone whisper. "Did anyone see how she hit the water? It didn't look bad, but..."

The lifeguards waded into the water with an orange floating device. They appeared untroubled as they took their time entering the diving area, and Kagerou wanted to yell at them to hurry up. Once they were deep enough, one of them dived under, but by then a shout drew everyone's attention.

"Over there!"

A hundred meters out, a body in the water. For a terrifying moment, all Kagerou could see was her hair – the light pink hair that was unmistakably Shiranui's – and then, all at once, her worries evaporated. Shiranui was waving towards them, a collection of rings wrapped around her arm as a wave momentarily blocked her from view.

"How many?" Kagerou found herself saying, despite no longer caring about the competition's outcome.

"At least three. Four, I think."

The opposing team erupted in cheers, and Kagerou couldn't help but feel faint.

"I think I'll go next," Michishio said. "You don't look so well."

Kagerou watched as Shiranui met with the two lifeguards on the swim back, and it looked like they were in conversation but it was much too far to make anything out. Once ashore, a few people shouted their disbelief. Shiranui had brought back four rings wrapped around her arms, and a fifth around her left foot, which she must have just barely been able to reach before she'd been forced to ascend for air. Five points for her team, bringing their score up to eight.

Without even an upwards glance at her teammates, Shiranui walk along the beach, shedding the rings from her body and letting them fall into the sand. Ignoring the rest of the completed divers, who were sitting in the sand next to the ladder up to the cement platform, Shiranui continued down the beach, choosing a bench to sit on, between the grass and sand.

Kagerou wasn't the competitive type, but it peeved her that someone so dispassionate could perform so well. Five rings? She would undo Shiranui's work.

"No. I'm going next."

Michishio gave her a concerned glance.

"Please," Kagerou added for good measure.

Nobody else seemed eager to dive after Shiranui's performance, and she was met with silence.

She surprised herself, how quickly she went from relief and not caring about the tournament, to frustration and desire to knock Shiranui down a peg.

Trying to emulate Shiranui's success, Kagerou stepped forward, taking deep breaths while stretching her arms. She thought she had read, somewhere long ago, that deep breaths would help increase lung capacity. Stepping out onto the diving board, she felt only a morsel of fear, which she quickly crushed. Shiranui hadn't been afraid. She had been _indifferent_.

Kagerou peered over the edge. The waves were a simple pattern, but could she time it right? Though she hadn't any experience, she suspected that not only would landing in between waves bring her closer to the sea floor, but it would also prevent her from being knocked around and disoriented during her first few seconds underwater.

There was no reason to imitate the fancy somersaults and twists Shiranui had performed, so Kagerou didn't hesitate or think. Instead, she focused entirely on her legs as she sprung herself off the board.

The fear returned, as she was staring, headfirst, at the whitecap waves so far below. She almost closed her eyes and took her last breath then, but determination stopped her. She needed the extra second to draw in oxygen so she could compete with Shiranui. She needed to know exactly when she would hit the water, so she could know if she successfully avoided being jostled by the waves, and she needed to remember, even as she broke the water's surface with the palm of her outstretched hands, that she had to fight instinct and dive deeper, as soon as she was submerged.

It was shocking. Maybe she had expected the stinging of her hands from hitting the water so hard, and maybe she expected the sudden feeling of water enclosing all around her, hugging her body, and the bubbles everywhere, blinding her during the crucial moments where she needed to find the rings, but even so, combining all these senses resulted in a momentary panic and lack of confidence.

There was only one chance.

The sounds of her team cheering her on, invigorated from seeing Shiranui's amazing performance, were gone, replaced with the crash of water and fizzling of bubbles. Every sound was mute as she kicked her feet, descending deeper into the ocean. Opening her eyes a fraction, she panicked when everything was too blurry. She realized she was squinting too much, and in a single motion, she opened her eyes wide open.

There was little sand, so far out from the artificial beach.

Instead, there was pavement. A side road that had once belonged to a bustling city of honest, hard working people. She saw an array of buildings on either side of the road, and for a moment she could imagine she was a god, descending on the city as it slept at night. The feeling of being omniscient was quickly replaced with vertigo, when her brain pointed out how odd it was – what she was seeing and the angle from which she was seeing it from – and she experienced a sudden fear that the water wasn't actually there, and she was in free fall above the city, about to plummet into the cement below.

With a quick shake of her head to refocus, she began examining her surroundings.

Vehicles were parked along the side of the road, and storefronts were barricaded by sandbags. She descended further.

Below her, so close she could reach out and touch it, there was a road sign. She was at an intersection, and she read to road names. They had no significance to her. Turning to once again take in the sight of the city, she felt sorrowful for its loss.

But no – she was on a mission. She needed to collect rings.

Instinct told her not to go straight, taking the path towards the city center. Not only was that the first direction everyone faced when they dived in, but Shiranui had also went that direction and taken out five rings. They were evenly distributed, the fitness teacher had said, so Kagerou turned around, angling herself towards the southern end of the beach, where Shiranui was currently sitting on a bench, alone.

Her vision was blurry, the discomfort from the salt water making her screw up her eyes as she swam along. Thankfully, most of the buildings in the area were short, no more than two stories. If they had been diving in the downtown area, the difference in height between the roads and top of the buildings would be too much to navigate.

Passing over an office building, she nearly missed it. A red ring was hanging from the corner of the air conditioning unit on the roof. She readjusted her path, grabbing it and looping it around her arm as she continued. Leaving the office building behind, she looked down. Vehicles, signs, mailboxes. No rings. Already, her lungs felt empty. How long had it been, twenty, thirty seconds? The hidden fear of coming up empty-handed had already been dispelled, but she didn't want to stop yet.

If she trusted her body, then things would become a little easier. The instinct to surface for air was just that – an instinct. If she suppressed it, she would be able to go on much longer. Soon, though, she would need to stick closer to the surface, and once she did that, it was all over. There would be no rings in the shallows.

The sight of a ring lying on the windshield of a car caught her attention. This was it, she decided. She had one good opportunity to descend as deep as she could, and she would grab that ring and whatever else she could find, before needing to call it quits. Two was still much short of her goal to match Shiranui, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. Maybe beating Shiranui had been a silly notion.

As she dived deeper, passing the windows of an office building, she entered a cold patch of water and shivered. Fearless, large-eyed fishes watched her as she swam by. A moment later, they darted away at thrice the speed she was moving. What she wouldn't give for a pair of flippers.

Without so much as pausing, she swept past the vehicle, snatching the second ring around her other arm. She passed by an alleyway, making sure to peek down it, and then swam along a sidewalk, feet nearly scraping the cement as she kicked. It was surreal feeling, swimming above a sidewalk. Passing a Go salon, she turned the corner at an intersection.

She nearly opened her mouth to gasp in surprise when she found herself facing down the muzzle of a very, very large gun. Behind it, a chassis of colours muted by the ocean water, but recognizable as camouflage. Kagerou stared at the tank in disbelief. Its tracks were massive, and she wasn't a tank expert – she was much more familiar with smaller guns – but she pegged it as a Type 97 ShinhoTo Chi-Ha. It had never seen large scale war, and the government cancelled mass production at their factories all around the country when the world's' oceans began to flood everything. They had wisely realized that boats would be more important in the future than tanks.

As though in offering to her, a red ring hung from the halfway point of the barrel. She swam up and along the barrel, wrapping her feet around it and grabbing the ring, before kicking away, pulling it along the barrel and then free. She was at three rings. It was a respectable amount, and her lungs began to hurt in earnest, pleading for air.

It was time to surface.

If she wasn't underwater, she would have sworn. By the very nature of the games played in fitness class, everyone knew Professor Rina had a sadistic streak. The ring around the tank had proved it, taking valuable time to extract, but what she saw now was ridiculous. She had passed it on her time through the intersection, so eager to see if there was anything around the corner, but now she saw it.

A sign, red, inverted triangle. It was a stop sign, and at its base, a ring was wrapped around it.

Kagerou hesitated for one costly second, before swimming up to it. The ring completely encircled the sign's post, and she tried to pull the sign free, out of the pavement, knowing full well that it wouldn't budge. How in the world had Professor Rina even gotten the ring there in the first place?

She tugged at the ring. It was plastic, essentially a hollowed out Frisbee, and there was no chance she would be able to break it free. Looking around, all she could see was a nearby crab, who wouldn't likely offer his pincers in assistance. She tried pulling it up the length of the poll, until it was tight against the sign.

She was out of time. She needed air, and she estimated she was still at least six meters under water. She needed to leave, _now_.

Frantically, she kicked at the sign. It was rusted around the edges and she hoped it would snap off, freeing the ring, but the metal only reverberated, showing no signs of fragility. She kicked again, the impact dislodging bubbles trapped in the pavement below. It was progress. Grabbing the top of the sign with her hands once more, she brought her feet in towards her chest and kicked out a final, third time.

Her lips, which she had clenched shut the entire time, opened for a fraction of a second. Bubbles escaped her mouth, passing ominously in front of her eyes. She had just swallowed water. It was only a little bit, but if it was enough for her to start coughing, she was doomed. Immediately reaching for the sign again, she pulled herself up. She couldn't panic; it would only make things worse. The edge of her vision was darkening and she felt a violent urge to inhale, but she steadfastly ignored the fact.

She had expended too much effort and spent too long.

Positioning her feet on the top edge of the sign, she pushed off and upwards, towards the surface. It was far away. Where was she? Would the lifeguards be able to get to her in time?

She closed her eyes, focusing wholeheartedly on kicking her feet as hard as possible. It should have been getting brighter, as she approached the surface, but she saw nothing but blackness against her eyelids. She wasn't making enough progress. A desperate part of her was running through her options, but she had nothing. Even if it would have helped, she couldn't have spent the costly motions of dropping the rings from around her arm. There was nothing she could do but focus every iota of her energy towards reaching the surface.

It would be foolish, laughable even, to die for this. All because a girl who she'd met the other day had struck a chord within her, and she had thought she needed to collect five rings to preserve her dignity. Though maybe it was the way things were meant to happen. If she couldn't handle the first month of a nearly two year program, how would she be able to handle real battles? She was hopelessly incompetent, and was in no way whatsoever fit to fight the Abyssals alongside people like Shiranui.

Without warning, the atmosphere changed. Sounds returned to the world, and she opened her mouth before even her eyes. As soon as her mouth was open and she began to suck air into her lungs, water crashed into her. She inhaled the wave through her nose and mouth, and then it passed her by and she was left coughing, forcing her eyes open and desperately looking for shore while simultaneously trying to find the direction the waves were coming from to stop herself from inhaling another wave, though she didn't know if she'd be able to control herself if there was another one approaching.

Her vision, however, wasn't immediately obeying her. Everything was greyish, and for a horrifying second, she thought she was still underwater and she was only imagining she was getting air, as her body was seizing up and she was losing consciousness. She pushed the thought aside, knowing the air she gulped down couldn't be imagined. Her vision was tunneled, only able to see the water immediately in front of her, and the colours were muted. The sky was supposed to be blue and cloudless, but looking up, all she saw was grey.

She was getting air, though, and that was what mattered. It felt like minutes, but finally she had coughed up enough water and filled her lungs with enough air and repeated the process a dozen more times until her body told her she was fine. Her vision clearing up, she looked around, spotted shore, and began swimming.

The feeling of sand beneath her feet was heavenly, and not because of its warmth and the feeling of the small grains encompassing her feet like a massage, but because she was away from the water. Kagerou didn't bother trying to stand. She crawled, not caring if she looked like toddler, and finally collapsed in the sand. A moment later, she rolled over to stare at the blue sky above her.

It was a beautiful sight, but she couldn't languish in its heat forever. Grabbing the rings from her arms – of which she counted three, momentarily forgetting how she'd gotten them all – she threw them in the direction of the diving platform. They made it a couple of the fifty meters, falling into the sand.

Maybe, just a little, she could understand Shiranui's disinterest after completing her dive.

Sitting up, she smiled. She could see the crowd up on the platform – her team celebrating and the opposing team huddled together like a real sports team, plotting strategy and raising morale. She also noticed Professor Rina, standing in the shade beneath the platform, with the other students who had already completed their dive.

An unspoken understanding passed between them, as Rina gave a smile that Kagerou could only see as conniving. Of course, Kagerou had been the only student who went in the direction of the stop sign trap. Before the dive, she would never have imagined such evil was possible – no, that was a lie. Before meeting Shiranui, she would never have imagined such evil was possible, but the previous two days had truly opened her eyes to the world's maliciousness.

Standing up, she almost lost her footing and fell. She lazily wandered over to the nearest bench, wondering if Rina had installed an underwater camera at the stop sign, just so she could watch the footage later and laugh like the wicked villain she was.

Kagerou froze when she realized the bench was already occupied. It was the bench she had watched Shiranui sit at, what felt like so long ago.

"You're an idiot. An absolute moron," Shiranui said.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You were copying me, weren't you? You wanted to beat me."

Kagerou shrugged, already irritated and they hadn't exchanged but a handful of words. If Rina was a sadist, maybe she was a masochist, because she sat down on the same bench, albeit putting as much space between them as possible. She let out a sigh, turning her head to watch the commotion on the diving board. Nobody seemed to want to jump.

"Well, it wasn't going to happen," Shiranui said. "I saw you stretching, up on the platform. Let me guess, you were hyperventilating, too."

"I was," Kagerou said, a little defensively. "You don't have a monopoly over diving strategy."

"And in the water, how was your eyesight?"

"I – I couldn't really-"

"Hyperventilating purges the carbon dioxide from your bloodstream. It doesn't increase your oxygen saturation, like so many people think it does. Since high levels of carbon dioxide in your bloodstream triggers the urge to breath, you've simply trick your body into thinking it doesn't need oxygen, which is _extremely_ stupid. You'll be feeling fine one second, and the next you'll blackout. Even if you're only a couple meters from the surface and your body isn't sending you any warnings, you'll can still lose consciousness or experience greyout."

Kagerou fell silent. Greyout sounded like a very logical name for what she had been experiencing earlier.

"So don't ever do that again, unless you have a death wish."

"You did it, though," Kagerou said, the words sounding childish to her own ears.

"I don't need my body to tell me when I need oxygen. I know exactly how long I can stay under before risking hypoxia." Shiranui sighed, her voice becoming less terse. "Though I suppose it is a bad habit of mine, it's largely a mental thing. Helps me focus, builds my confidence so I don't panic and waste oxygen while underwater. Anyways, like I said, you weren't going to beat me. I'm experienced at these kinds of things."

Kagerou wrapped her arms around her body, digging her feet into the sand. It had been stupid. Especially because she had been so determined to beat Shiranui. She didn't know what to say, or if Shiranui even wanted her company. Was she supposed to apologize? It didn't seem like Shiranui would care. The girl was looking out towards the horizon, completely ignoring her and the rest of the class.

Kagerou settled for watching the students atop the diving platform as the minutes passed.

"You got three," Shiranui finally said. "All things considered, you did well."

It wasn't necessary, but Kagerou turned her entire body, abandoning the entertainment of the panicking students far above them, and refocused her entire attention on the girl.

"Don't patronize me," she said.

She didn't tend to default to anger, but she couldn't help it. It was a rude thing to say, sounding completely arrogant, after Shiranui offered her advice, but there was simply something about Shiranui that made her so aggressive when she otherwise always strived to be polite and respectful.

"I wasn't. Don't compare yourself to me."

Shiranui paused, as if expecting Kagerou to say she hadn't. It would have been a lie, and Kagerou was trying to preserve at least a little of her dignity, in the face of Shiranui.

"I've got experience." Shiranui hesitated, looking up towards the rest of the students for perhaps the first time that day. "Why were you on the other team?"

"I didn't really pick. I just let things happen."

Shiranui shook her head. "I'll confess, I thought you were a Filles."

Kagerou froze. "I-" _I am_.

But if she were to admit to it, then why was she sitting with Shiranui? And what kind of person was Shiranui? Did she hate Filles?

"I know," Shiranui interrupted. "This is the second time you've approached me. I just made the assumption because you kept spouting shit like 'respect' and 'responsibility'."

Kagerou desperately looked for a different topic. "You – you keep saying you have experience. Diving?"

"Search and rescue. Before the world went under, I was in line to be the youngest recruit for a specialized unit in the Soviet Union's coast guard. I've handled the White Sea in October, and this really just feels like child's play to me."

Earlier, Arashio had said Shiranui was a quiet girl, and hard to converse with, but right now, it seemed so far from the truth. There was the possibility that Shiranui knew Arashio was a Filles, and maybe that was why she had been cold and distant. And here, Shiranui thought she was an Orphan.

"That's impressive," Kagerou said.

Kagerou took the opportunity to admire the girl. While Shiranui was wearing the school's dark purple standard issue one-piece swim suit, she was still very beautiful. Knowing that her muscles weren't just from working out in a gym all the time, but from actual experience that led to the performance Kagerou had witnessed earlier, the girl seemed so much mature. It might not have been appropriate, and Kagerou hadn't ever thought it before, but the girl she sat next to was attractive. Not just in the objective sense, where it was easy to say a lady walking down the street was attractive, but Kagerou herself felt attracted to Shiranui.

It was a surprising realization, but she might have had the same thought yesterday, and not acknowledged it. Shiranui was mysterious, rebellious, and her laughter and playfulness had caught Kagerou completely off-guard. Was 'entranced' the right word? At the moment, the girl in front of her absolutely entranced her.

"I'm not the type to get all bashful, so please, keep drinking in the sight of me."

The words shook her back to reality. She was definitely imagining the attraction. Increases in adrenaline led to sexual attraction, she had read somewhere. "You're conceited."

"You just said I was impressive."

"You're both."

Shiranui smiled, and Kagerou's heart skipped a beat. Immediately, she tried to commit the sight to memory, but the smile was gone all too soon.

"Kagerou!"

Michishio was approaching them, a ring raised high in her hand. Kagerou had zoned out for so long she had missed two people dive. She didn't even know the score now, and even worse, a look of confusion was crossing Shiranui's face. Apparently even she knew Michishio was a Filles.

"You know her?" Shiranui said, quietly.

Kagerou nodded.

"She's your friend?"

Kagerou couldn't do anything but nod. She opened her mouth, wanting to explain, but couldn't.

"I guess this is the second really stupid assumption I've made this week."

"No! I – I'm-"

Shiranui shook her head, standing up in a swift motion. "You're not a liar, I know that much, so be careful what you say. You're the one obsessed with respect, responsibility, _pride_ , or whatever this was," she said, waving her hand towards the oceans. "It's fine. I don't really care, but there's no reason for you to throw your ideals away to befriend me, just because I'm a blip on your radar, screwing up what's supposed to be a perfect school environment for you."

"Please-"

When she saw pain, a flicker of emotion cross Shiranui's face, she knew she had screwed up badly. Shiranui had been so open to her, and now she was suddenly labeled as an enemy. Turning her back, Shiranui began to walk down the beach, away from the class.

"Don't try to fix me."

* * *

 **A/N:** The Type 97 ShinhoTo Chi-Ha is, in fact, a 1940s Japanese tank. Research (more recent than 1940s, however) does show significant positive correlation between adrenaline and attraction. Do _not_ hyperventilate before diving – see 'shallow water blackout' on Wikipedia for more information (I've believed this strategy for a _long_ time, so it was surprising to discover it is dangerous).

I don't have a beta for this story, so feedback/comments/PMs/reviews/etc are much appreciated. I'm always looking to improve my writing.


	4. Devil's Lair

The PA system crackled, and their teacher fell silent, waiting patiently for the message. It took a few seconds before a familiar voice echoed through the room.

"Attention, please," Ms Kashima sung, her voice only slightly distorted from the sound distribution system. It was eerie, but she must have had a trick for speaking into the microphone or something, because her voice always came out clearer than any of the other staff members who used it. Usually the voices came out crackling on every second word, in a low grizzly pitch, but hers had a musical tone to it. "Would the following students please come by my office after class: Nobori Shiranui. Chisaka Kagerou. I repeat, would the following students please come by my office after class: Nobori Shiranui. Chisaka Kagerou. Thank you for your attention."

With a final, irritating crackle, the PA system fell silent.

All the heads in the classroom simultaneously turned towards Kagerou, Shiranui's included.

She _almost_ smiled when she realized none of her classmates knew her name so they defaulted their attention on Kagerou, who looked like she'd accidentally kicked a puppy. Utterly frozen, her pencil dropped from her hand as she stared ahead. The image of a perfect student, shattered in a heartbeat. Shiranui might have been imagining it, but it looked like Kagerou's lips were quivering, as though on the verge of tears.

The professor cleared his throat. Applying a little more pressure to his chalk, to ensure the screeching sound regained everyone's attention, he continued his diagram on the wavelength of the Type 21 radar, which had been scavenged from Germany before all the technology had been lost to the ocean. Shiranui kept taking notes, though she had a feeling Kagerou had been knocked out of commission and wouldn't be writing anything more for the rest of the lecture.

There was little question they were in trouble, but Shiranui had skipped the entire day, Friday, whereas Kagerou had only missed Abyssal Theory I, so their detentions would likely be different. Shiranui would be getting much worse. She'd already received a warning from the self-proclaimed very generous Ms Kashima, so there would be no mercy this time around. Kagerou, on the other hand, would probably be lightly rebuked and sent on her way.

There was also the minor concern of ditching the last hour of fitness class just before lunch, but after earning five points for her team and completing her dive, there wasn't anything left to do. Professor Rina would probably have understood, though in retrospect maybe she should have asked for permission before leaving. All in all, Shiranui might have been pushing the boundaries a little too hard, recently. She was keeping her grades up, but she might need to pay a little more attention to her attendance.

Shiranui wondered if yesterday had been the first time Kagerou had ever missed a class.

The lead of her pencil snapped after she'd put too much pressure on it. She brushed the lead tip off her desk and swapped the pencil for a new one from her backpack. She was a little angry, and she blamed Kagerou. It was her own fault, too, for assuming Kagerou was an Orphan, but still – Kagerou approached her on two separate occasions, surely it was a reasonable assumption?

Shiranui hoped they wouldn't be in the same room for their detentions – even thinking about the girl elicited bitter feelings. Why did Kagerou have to be a Filles? And why did Shiranui have to recognize the distance now between them, and be unable to ignore it? The fact that Kagerou had willingly engaged in conversation with her proved it wasn't an impossible relationship. They could still be acquaintances, or friends, even if Shiranui wanted more.

She enjoyed Kagerou's company, though it was always unanticipated. She spent too long alone, thinking about the ocean and the past and what could have been, so Kagerou's interruptions, her serious voice and challenging words, were found to be a welcome distraction.

When class ended, they somehow ended up walking to Ms Kashima's office together. It was a coincidence, not orchestrated by Shiranui's realization that she needed to sharpen all her pencils before leaving class. They drew stares, more than Shiranui would have liked, but it wasn't as discomforting as she would have once found it. Because people talked behind her back about her bad work ethic and lazy attitude, Shiranui grew impervious to the attention. The words of strangers wouldn't hurt her.

She didn't know how to initiate conversation, after they parted ways earlier in the day, but she also wasn't one to hesitate. She took the first thought that came to mind.

"Since fitness class, have you experienced any chest pain, or coughing fits?"

Kagerou looked up at her in surprise. "No. Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

Secondary drowning was too rare. It was a pointless worry, but at least now the thought wouldn't nag her any longer.

"She's not going to kill us," Shiranui said a moment later, when she realized how nervous Kagerou was acting.

Kagerou recoiled a little, as though the thought of murder hadn't crossed her mind. "Maybe she will."

"You're a _Filles_ ," Shiranui said, making sure to speak the word like it was acidic. "She won't do anything too terrible to you."

For other people, she might have used the word 'Filles' as an insult, but she didn't really mean it for Kagerou. Maybe, with a some concerted effort on her part, she could overlook it. Maybe, she could _hope_ they shared the same detention, so Kagerou would come to her for support when Kashima's punishment broke her.

Shiranui felt a little excitement as she watched, out of her peripheral vision, Kagerou shrink a little. The girl began to take smaller, quicker steps and clutched her arms around her chest like she was injured. It was so little effort to tease her, and for so much reward. Already, today, she had a front row seat to watch a bikini clad Kagerou crawl out of the ocean, exhausted and defenseless, collapse onto the sand, her chest heaving with each breath and relief etched on her face. Shiranui had almost stepped forward, to offer a hand as an excuse to be closer to the girl, but she had refrained. The whole class had been watching, and Shiranui hadn't seen reason to get herself any more attention than necessary.

"But I skipped her class," Kagerou said.

"Kashima doesn't teach Abyssal Theory."

Kagerou shook her head. "I went home, after – um – after we went swimming."

Shiranui stopped in the middle of the hallway.

What had she done? It was because of her that Kagerou's cloth had been wet and she had went home, so it was her fault Kagerou was being called to Kashima's office. No, she reasoned, there was no need to apologize. Kagerou had been the one to try to physically bring her back to class. Shiranui had just been conforming to the delinquent stereotype and reacting appropriately. Apologizing was a sign of weakness, her mother would say. Shiranui wouldn't apologize. Her resolute decision, however, did nothing to assuage her guilt.

She would focus on making things right, at the very least.

They arrived at the office, Kagerou one step behind, as if using her to hide from sight. Shiranui realized she was no longer angry with the girl, and with a sigh, she gave the door three concise raps. Immediately, Kashima responded.

"Enter."

Her office smelled sickly sweet, like they were swimming in a pool of honey, surrounded by a field of flowers, and Shiranui was pretty sure that was the exact imagery that Ms Kashima was going for. The atmosphere actually felt heavy, like the aroma was thick enough to weigh the air down, and it was noticeably warmer than out in the hallway.

For a brief second, Shiranui wondered if what she smelt was aphrodisiac. She quickly dismissed the silly thought as she sat down on the couch Kashima had motioned towards. Kagerou joined her a second later, though she was conspicuous in leaving a couple feet between them.

On principle, rumours weren't to be believed, but there were certainly some circulating among the students. Apparently, Kashima had made an advance on some of the second year students. People were saying she was a predator, looking for young girls – though first year students were supposedly safe – to have a fling with. There was little doubt how the rumour was created.

Her office, aside from the aroma, had some other odd aspects to it.

Kashima's cabinet had three shelves, and a compartment below which was locked by key. The top shelf held trophies. They were all shining gold in the room's dim lighting, and most featured people in different poses. Ice skating, perhaps a ballerina, and one who was clearly swimming. Kashima was an accomplished person, though it shouldn't have been surprising, considering she was teaching the next generation, which the government so often loved to proclaim would save the world.

On the shelf below her trophies, there were more additional knick knacks. A snow globe, which had small white grains actively floating in it – had Kashima shaken it just prior to letting them in? There was a large, two plated scale that took up most of the shelf's room. It had red nuggets in one plate and blue and green ones in the other. Habit was, when seeing colourful gems, to assume they were rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. In this case, Shiranui thought it would be safe to yield to the assumption. Kashima was said to be a high end person, and fake gems didn't fit her persona.

The final shelf is where the innocence stopped, or at least that was Shiranui's impression. There were books, but none appeared academic. She may have been wrong, though, because most weren't in Japanese or English. She recognized the French word 'amour' along the spine of multiple books, along with other vocabulary that didn't leave much room for interpretation. The books stopped at a bookend only halfway along the shelf. The bookend itself, a nude woman with a bountiful chest, stretching upwards, made Shiranui flush.

She attributed part of that to the room's actual heat. She couldn't see any incense, but she imagined there was a flame somewhere, heating up the room.

The remaining items on the bookshelf, Shiranui almost discounted. They looked to be rubber dog toys, but, obviously, there were no dogs around. They were plain and looked soft, and their ends were shaped like a cucumber. Surely Kashima wouldn't leave such an item out in the open? The whip on the table jumped into sight, and then Kashima's white leather gloves. Also, and Shiranui tried to find a plausible explanation for it, a pile of ribbon was heaped on top of the cabinet, almost out of sight from where she sat on the couch. Restraints?

This was a professor at the most esteemed academy in Japan, she reminded herself. She was over thinking things because of the rumours she had previously heard.

But no, she told herself again. Shiranui wasn't normally the type to see inappropriate content everywhere; it couldn't be helped when sitting in Kashima's office. There was definitely some illicit activity happening in this room after hours. Even the lighting lent confidence to this.

About a year back, through an odd series of events, Shiranui had acquired rare magazines from the former Unites States which featured nude woman in different poses, and she couldn't help but compare the lighting from the lewd photos to the current office's lighting. A dim, purple light permeated the room, more concentrated on Kashima's desk, where, if it were an image from the magazine, a woman would be laying on the wood, hands covering her nipples and erotic expression on her face.

Shiranui shook her head.

She wasn't usually so dirty minded. It was the office.

"Shiranui, Kagerou, I'm glad to see you made it here in a timely manner."

Kashima was a mix between childish and mature – though more on the mature side. She wore twin ponytails in her silver hair and a red bow affixed to the neck of her suit. Her eyes were grey, and narrowed as she scrutinized them. It was rather uncomfortable because Shiranui hadn't a clue what the professor was thinking.

Her shirt was formal wear, white with black trim, and it accentuated her bosom, which was probably intentional on her part. As far as Shiranui knew, Kashima was a high ranking member of the IJN, and a series of badges pinned just above her chest indicated she had fought the Abyssals multiple times in the past. The woman was powerful, experienced, and, Shiranui didn't want to admit it, but a little intimidating.

Kagerou shifted a little closer to Shiranui, who decided she would be fine taking a bullet for the girl, if it meant they could be a little closer.

"I've spoken with Katori and discovered that both of you missed not only my Destroyer Theory lecture, but her Abyssal Theory course, too. She told me it was a very important lecture about telepathy, the British Columbian Tea Party, and the moon's influence on the Abyssals. These topics are critical to understanding the Abyssals, and I offered to handle your detentions for missing her lecture. She accepted."

Of course Katori accepted. They were best friends, and though Shiranui wasn't positive, she was pretty sure they were also cousins or related somehow.

More importantly, Kashima had mentioned the moon having an effect on the Abyssals. It was also responsible for the ocean's tides – maybe it was a link worth investigating. Although, the oceans rising started well before the arrival of the Abyssals, so it wouldn't be too promising of study. It could explain the reason for the end of the Flooding, however, since the arrival of the Abyssals coincided with the estimated end of the Flooding.

"As such, I decided to roll your detentions for Destroyer Theory and Abyssal Theory into one. Shiranui, I've previously given you a warning, so don't think you'll get off so easily this time. For what reason did you miss Friday's courses?"

"I had other business to attend to," she hedged.

"I'm sure it was extremely important." Kashima giggled, an unfitting sound that was both scary and seductive. "And you, Kagerou. You built yourself up as a respectable student in the first week. What caused this absence?"

"I – uh-"

Shiranui almost face-palmed. Kagerou wouldn't be able to lie to an authority figure, nor could she admit she had been swimming at the beach. If Shiranui didn't intervene, Kagerou would be more likely to break down in tears before offering a reasonable excuse.

"Ms Kashima," Shiranui said. Hesitating, she brought a hand up to her mouth, as if to bar Kagerou from hearing. "Her period started – she's easily embarrassed by this kind of stuff-"

Kagerou's face was quickly turning a deep shade of red, with no signs of it being acting on her part.

"-see? And it was particularly bad this time around. She wasn't feeling well."

Kashima frowned, before nodding. "I see. Though I heard she performed quite spectacularly in fitness class, earlier today, for it to be her time of the month."

Shiranui shrugged, taking the opportunity to put a consoling hand on Kagerou's shoulder. The girl squirmed uncomfortably, but didn't pull away. Shiranui was pretty sure she was a bad person.

"I take it you two were together, during your absences?"

Shiranui nodded, realizing Kagerou had, for all intents and purposes, had a meltdown and was now just another piece of furniture in the room.

"Only for a short while. I ran into her outside," she clarified.

"Then I think it appropriate that you two spend detention together."

"Together? We're doing the same thing?"

Kashima picked up her whip and rotated it in hand as if to examine every facet of the black leather. "I'm a busy person, Shiranui. I don't have the time to manage two separate punishments. You'll both be assigned the same activity, and oversight will be minimal."

"Okay."

"You seem rather accepting of this."

Another casual response would almost certainly be a death trap. Kashima's words warranted a casual shrug or verbal agreement, and alarms went off in Shiranui's head. Kashima was a woman who liked control, and the conversation wasn't apparently going in the expected direction. Offer resistance. Give the woman what she wanted.

"You said it yourself, oversight will be minimal. There's no reason for me to stress."

Shiranui waited. Hinting towards slacking off would probably be sufficient. She half expected to hear the whistling of the whip as it cut into the desk, but Kashima only smiled.

"I should correct myself. Oversight by _me_ will be minimal. I have a friend, a man named Conor, who needs assistance. You two will offer it to him. Though, as I'm sure you recall from your previous meeting with me, I am a benevolent, reasonable person. I will offer you a choice, between activities."

Was 'activities' a euphemism? It was an eerie choice of words. Wasn't detention supposed to be writing 'I won't skip class anymore to swim in the ocean with a cute girl' a thousand times on a stack of papers?

"You have the choice between either a mental activity, or physical one. Choose, and don't regret it."

The way she spoke, Shiranui had a feeling they would regret their choice no matter what. In the end, however, they were students of Kantai Academy. It was obvious, wasn't it? There was really only one choice.

"Physical," she said, offering confidence so Kashima could enjoy cutting her down when she revealed the task.

At the same time that she spoke, however, another voice rang out. It was jittery, and a notch quieter than her own. "Mental."

There was no appropriate reaction, Shiranui realized, to being so ruthlessly betrayed by the girl she was supposed to be protecting. Though, in Kagerou's defense, she looked equally horrified at their dissonance. She opened her mouth again, maybe to apologize or change her mind, but like earlier at the beach, she was unable to speak. For this very reason, Shiranui immediately forgave her. The vulnerable expression, wide eyes, and even her faint smell of sweat from the room's stifling heat all made Shiranui want to lean in closer and hug the girl.

Kashima looked like she had just received a chocolate castle full of candy for White Day, and Shiranui was momentarily, truly terrified of the woman.

"Both, it is."

'Wait!" Shiranui shouted. "That's-"

The crack of the whip silenced her. Kashima was on her feet, the whip perched atop the wood desk. She was smiling.

"You heard me. I am a reasonable person. You two are serving your detention together, and you two have chosen _both_ tasks, which I know Conor will be delighted to hear."

It wasn't arguable. Shiranui knew boundaries. She knew what she could get away with. Skipping certain classes, earning a certain amount of red marks in her Kantai Project record. It wasn't that she liked to push the boundaries, but if they could be pushed to give her a little more freedom, then why not? This was it, now. She had to buckle in and do whatever was demanded of her.

"Conor MacKetian is a friend of mine from Ireland. Seven years ago, his business went bankrupt when his ship, _Irish Hazel_ , sank off the coast of the Japanese Archipelago. Since then, he's struggled to keep his family afloat – literally. He is here in Japan on an all-or-nothing endeavor. With a crew of four men, plus two newly acquired hard workers, and the usage of a particularly well equipped supply boat, he plans to salvage _Irish Hazel's_ cargo."

The question was begging to be asked, and Shiranui knew it was exactly what Kashima wanted, so she didn't hesitate.

"What's the cargo?"

"Six hundred cases of Guinness beer, fourteen thousand bottles of Irish whiskey, and six thousand bottles of Poitin."

"Dear lord," Shiranui couldn't help but mutter. "And we're supposed to help with that?"

Kashima nodded. "But, don't forget, you've also volunteered for the other aspect of the job. Once all thirty four thousand bottles have been brought ashore and secured in the warehouse, you will verify the structural integrity of every bottle. After having been in the water so long, under the immense pressure at the bottom of the ocean, there's a chance they've been damaged."

Shiranui suppressed a groan.

It sounded like an immense task that would take at least a week. Kashima couldn't be serious. All for missing a single class? Maybe she deserved it, but Kagerou too? The girl would be so miserable even Shiranui wouldn't be able to enjoy it.

"Does that sound like a fair detention for you two?"

"No," Shiranui said, hiding her fists at her sides and clenching them. She shouldn't have spoke, especially not when so angry, but she hadn't been able to help it.

"No," Kashima echoed. "I didn't think so. But I expected you to say as much. So worry not, there's _more_."

"Miss Kashima," Shiranui said.

It was true, what they said about the professor. She would beat you to the ground, grind her heels on your hands, and then spit in your eyes when you tried to look up and plead with her. Shiranui had stepped past the boundary intentionally, but she hadn't planned on dragging anyone with her, least of all Kagerou.

"Kagerou only missed one day – she's a good student. She hasn't even received a warning. It's - it's not-"

She couldn't use the word 'fair'. It wouldn't jibe with Kashima. It was exactly what Kashima wanted to hear. Shiranui was defeated, and she acknowledged it. Even her voice threatened to break, as she struggled to find an argument.

"I said there's more," Kashima said, ignoring Shiranui's half completed plea. "The bottles, submerged in saltwater for many years, will have had their labels shredded or completely lost. Once they're all recovered and you've checked their integrity and dried them off, you will need to remove any remnants of labels on the bottles, write up new ones, and apply them to the bottle. We want a proper, finished looking product when all your work is done. Documentation of the quantity of each type is also necessary. You will start tomorrow. Meet at harbour four, dock six, eight am sharp. Regarding my lecture which you missed, pages sixteen to one hundred should suffice. And Katori informed me you will need to read pages one twenty eight to one seventy and answer questions one through six in the end of chapter exercises from the Abyssal Theory text. You are dismissed."

Shiranui nodded.

Tomorrow, Sunday, was their only day off for the entire week. School was eight hours a day on the other days, excluding Friday. And from what the second years had forewarned, they would usually have a paper or two to write on Sundays, or a test to study for if exams were coming up. This detention wouldn't simply drain them, but it would harm their grades too. It might even set up a domino effect, where they would always be behind in work and sleep, and never be able to catch up for the rest of the semester. It would be like kicking them while they were down and never giving them a chance to free themselves from their situation.

The way Kagerou spoke of it, the Kantai Project meant everything to her. She sounded like she was dedicating her life to it without hesitation. This punishment would crush her dream, if Shiranui didn't act.

Shiranui's mind wasn't thinking fast enough, but she did have the workings of a plan. The plan being, _to think_. Leave the office, take an hour to think, plan, and prepare, and then return with an argument that would defeat Kashima.

'Defeat Kashima'.

It simply wasn't possible, was it? No, she would need to settle for a small compromise.

At the very least, Kagerou wouldn't be around to hear her attempt if it went south and she made things worse, which wasn't too unlikely of a possibility.

She stood up, her movements stiff. When she realized Kagerou hadn't moved an inch, she reached out to grab the girl's arm. For a terrifying moment, she thought Kagerou might recoil from her, realizing whose fault it was that they were in such a devastating situation. The girl didn't react to her touch, but stood up when she was pulled. Like the blind leading the blind, they left Kashima's office without so much as a goodbye.

They stood out in the hall for a moment. Shiranui adjusting to the brightness of the lights, despite knowing she would soon need to return to the devil's lair.

She saw a familiar face standing down the hallway. The girl was the one from the beach during fitness class – she looked like a middle school student, flat chested, large eyes, and light brown hair with twin ponytails. Kagerou had claimed they were friends, and Shiranui didn't know the girl's name, but knew that she was a Filles.

"You," Shiranui said. "Take her."

She gave Kagerou a shove, and the friend moved in to take the girl's hand. Slowly, they walked down the hallway together.

Shiranui took several deep breaths. Needing to dismiss her Tokarev TT-33 as a solution to her problem spoke volumes about her current mindset.

Blackmail was a dangerous path, but plausible. If she could verify some of the rumours floating around Kashima, maybe she could find a girl who had been exploited by the professor-

A related thought came up, and she immediately told herself 'no'. It was wrong on so many levels.

 _But_ _it was_ a potential solution. Didn't it have to be filed into the list of valid ideas? Wasn't it worth it? Besides, there was the rumour that Kashima wasn't interested in first years. It wouldn't work.

 _But it could_.

Shiranui collapsed against the brick walls of the ex-university building. Just by having the thought, no matter how disturbing it was, she felt a little better. There was no cost to Kagerou, if it worked, and that was what mattered, wasn't it? Saving the girl who she inexplicable enjoyed the company of, and didn't want to lose. Even seeing Kagerou walk down the hall, holding hands with her friend, hurt Shiranui. It was greedy, but humans were greedy. They were also selfish, though saving Kagerou from Kashima's punishment didn't seem entirely selfish. To an outsider, it would seem like a respectful action. A responsible action.

* * *

When half an hour passed with no one entering or leaving the hallway she sat in, she stood up, her back sore from the wall and her butt sore from sitting on the backs of her feet. Investigating rumours would take too long, and she had little to no contacts within the academy. Arare could offer her feedback on her working theories of where the oceans' water was coming from, and other aspects of science and technology, but she wasn't a viable source of gossip.

Shiranui knocked on Professor Kashima's door, surprisingly herself with her pace. Hadn't she wanted to spend a few more minutes planning?

"Come in."

Once again, she found herself in the devil's lair.

"Ah, Shiranui. Back for some more? Please, take a seat."

Kashima set a book aside, leaning back in her chair to wait as Shiranui returned to the leather couch. She took a deep breath, daring to meet Kashima's eyes.

"I wanted to talk about the detention."

"Go ahead, then."

"Kagerou – she missed your class because of health reasons. She, more than anyone, values the opportunity to learn. To give her this punishment, it's – it's illogical. The amount of time it'll take away from her education is too great. You're looking for people to fight the Abyssals, and I understand you want them to be well disciplined, but you would do better cutting her some slack, here. I don't know her entrance grades, but I'm willing to bet she's top of the class."

"You want me to reduce your punishments?"

"No."

Kashima raised her eyebrows.

"Hers. Just change hers. I'll help your friend salvage his alcohol. Cut Kagerou some slack. I'm the trouble student."

"You want to be a martyr."

"If you want to put it that way."

Kashima laughed. "No. I refuse. You two will share the same punishment, and it will not change."

Shiranui swallowed. Of course trying to reason with her wouldn't work.

"I was visiting some of my second year acquaintances, earlier."

"Heard some rumours, have you?" Kashima said, her tone quickly dropping to a deadly whisper.

Shiranui was in dangerous territory.

"More than that. I've substantiated a few of them. It just so happens, I know one of the girls you seduced. She's willing to testify. If you were to show some generosity to Kagerou, she might have a change of heart."

"Vicious," Kashima commented, pushing her chair back and drawing her long legs up to rest on her desk. "You really, truly, do have a vicious nature."

"You know how these things work. If one person steps forward, the rest do. How many girls have you manipulated? It'll all come crashing down on you. They may not all be minors, but if there's even one, you're looking at jail time. And in either case, exploiting students under your authority means you'll lose your job and forever be blacklisted from teaching. If you don't mind spending the rest of your life doing hard labour on a construction site, the answer is obvious."

"The answer is no." Kashima's next words were bare whispers. "I'm not afraid. Even if there's any substance to these rumours, which you've apparently verified, then I still wouldn't be afraid. I imagine any sexual activities between me and another individual would leave them wanting _more_ , not threatening to turn me in."

Shiranui stared, wide eyed.

Kashima's confidence, and the way she practically admitted to having affairs with the students, left Shiranui reeling. But she couldn't stop now. Letting the tides of the conversation change would mean the end of negotiations. Shiranui wiped her forehead, her fingers coming back glistening with sweat. It was too hot in the room. It was driving her insane.

"I see," she mumbled.

Shiranui had been called conceited, earlier, and she believed it, but she also believed she was attractive. Anyone who appreciated a woman who was young, healthy, and strong would find her attractive. She had been babysat by the ocean much of her life and as a result, she was tanned from the sun, her skin clear and her abs well defined, and though she had a smaller chest, she had strong muscles from all the swimming she had done, both in the USSR and Japan. Her hair was an exotic light pink, and she made sure to take good care of it. She was good-looking, and for the first time in her life, she would make use of her appearance.

All that being said, she hadn't a clue how to seduce an older woman. In fact, she wasn't well versed in sex at all. Being a virgin, the entirety of her knowledge came from books, and from magazines from the West. She knew very little about how two woman would do it.

"With these rumours in mind, professor, I still believe you should forgive Kagerou. I don't have much to offer, but I would be in your _debt_."

She said the words casually, but her mind was churning as she unbuttoned the top button of her skirt.

It was wrong, and she knew it, but she simultaneously felt excited at the prospect. It was purely a primal urge, but she knew Kashima was experienced – she had all but admitted the girls she'd had sex with enjoyed it. There was a difference, however, that Shiranui couldn't ignore. She wasn't attracted to Kashima. The woman had a suggestive aura about her, but Shiranui couldn't help but compare the woman to Kagerou.

Shiranui wanted to be close to Kagerou. Intimacy wouldn't be enough, with Kagerou. She wanted to hug the girl, to feel her warmth and make her feel happy and safe. She enjoyed teasing Kagerou, because the girl was so cute and when she was embarrassed she wouldn't make eye contact so Shiranui could watch the flustered girl without reservation. She wanted to be the only one who could stir up Kagerou's emotions, and Kashima had walked over them and kicked Shiranui aside.

A wide smile crossed Kashima's lips, and the woman stood up and walked around her desk. Shiranui froze, unsure of what to do, as Kashima approached until their knees were almost touching and Kashima was leaning over her, a hand resting on the coach's back just beside her neck.

"You would be in my debt," Kashima breathed, her eyes turning to Shiranui's shirt.

Her fingers wouldn't stop trembling, and it took her four tries to undo the next button.

Kashima leaned lower, until their eyes were level and their lips inches apart.

A memory, one from only yesterday, arose. Shiranui and Kagerou, in the ocean, water up to their waist. The waves brushing past them, their faces inches apart. She could hear the girl's breaths and get lost staring in her hazel brown eyes.

" _You don't mean, you_ like _this?" Shiranui said, grinning._

Kagerou, blushing, had looked away, whispering a very unconvincing 'no'.

It wasn't too late. Shiranui could run out of the office, and forget it. Preserve her virginity, but for what? If Kagerou hated her... staying was the best choice. She could free Kagerou from detention, and maybe they would be able to talk again. Even if their relationship never got better than that, she could make sure nobody else got close, and she could keep teasing the girl and seeing her blushing face and watery eyes as she squirmed in embarrassment, only to forgive Shiranui a second later.

That was the correct course of action.

"After attempting to blackmail me, you think to offer me your body? Why should I trust you won't turn this on me?"

Shiranui shook her head. The thought hadn't even occurred to her, but it was an obvious course of action. "It would be my word against yours. I'm not even respected by my peers, you can't seriously think I could be a threat to you?"

Kashima smiled. "True."

She put a finger on Shiranui's neck, and gently ran it up to her chin. Shiranui held her breath, shivering at the sensation.

"I'll be honest," Kashima said, pulling away and immediately dispelling the tension. "I was wondering how I would break you. You seemed fearless. At a glance, you have no weaknesses. You're smart, if your entrance exam was any indication, you're in peak physical condition – with a very tempting body – and you have great potential, whether you choose to succeed in the Kantai Project, or you look elsewhere. You have the drive to get things done, even if it costs you. Knowledgeable, and content with your current living situation, I didn't know how I would manage. And then I realized it."

Kashima sat on her desk, and Shiranui remained utterly still.

"You're alone, and you're lonely. I find your protectiveness of Kagerou quite sweet. You've found someone to care about, but that, in itself, is a weakness. I didn't have to do anything. You brought this upon yourself."

It was all Shiranui's fault. She stood up.

"No," she hissed, as if saying it would make it not true. "Leave her out of this."

"The punishment stands."

"Wait, wait! What do you want from me? I'll quit – I'll leave the academy!" If Kashima wanted an ultimate victory, then that would be it-

Kashima shook her head with a sad smile.

"I – I can get money," Shiranui said. "I have assets. A Beriev Be-2 out east. Peak condition, well maintained, fully fueled. It's yours, just leave Kagerou alone! It's worth a lot. There were only twelve of its kind ever built, before the factory went under. You can sell it, or do whatever you want with it. Just... please," Shiranui choked. "Please."

"Maybe start thinking on how you can improve your image as a student, if you don't want to hurt her anymore."

Kashima looked towards the door, a clear sign of dismissal.

Shiranui was already on her feet, having offered everything she had to the woman, but she almost couldn't turn her legs around. She was shaken, nearly crying, and she didn't want to move. A few seconds passed in silence, and she felt like she was suffocating in the room's heat. Her feet felt like foreign objects as she finally stumbled towards the door, putting her weight on the handle and swinging it open.

Shiranui stepped outside, closing the door only as an afterthought.

The hallway lights were bright, but looking out the windows, it was dark outside.

 _Nothing_. Was she so worthless, that nothing she had was of value to Kashima?

And she would have done it. She would have given up the Beriev for Kagerou. It was her most valuable possession, inherited from her father and meant to be her emergency funds if ever needed. She would have given it up for Kagerou.

Instead, she'd simply been the evening entertainment for Kashima.

* * *

 **A/N:** The mention of the Beriev Be-2 was accurate – only 12 were ever made of the Soviet seaplane. I haven't played KanColle for years, so I imagine some people will be upset at how I portrayed Kashima – I apologize, but it just wrote itself. The professors at Kantai Academy are a little questionable.


	5. Operation Poitin - Part I

Where alcohol was concerned, everybody was an expert and no one's opinions coincided and the result was so much confusion that it wound up worse than if everyone had just agreed to ban it in the first place. People looked towards the United States' prohibition of alcohol during the twenties, and without understanding 'why' or the cause and effects, decided that they should follow suit. Those whose everyday lives relied on being drunk threw a fit, and there were a surprising amount of such people in the government.

In the end, it was left up to the individual prefectural governments to make the decision. Some banned consumption, some banned production, some banned distribution, while others banned retail, and more placed age restrictions on drinking, while the most dogged of politicians introduced career restrictions, and it became a mishmash of laws that drove the lawyers to drinking while trying to figure out if they were committing a crime or not.

While the country did its best to maintain control and regulate misconduct, it didn't stop the fact that people were always changing prefectures, trying to escape the increasing tides, and because most alcohol production facilities in the world had slowed to a stop, these people carried with them their precious alcohol and no concern for the laws of the prefecture they immigrated to.

Things became more manageable after enough prefectures were submerged and a singular government took over the remaining land. They decreed alcohol legal, though ironically it didn't matter anymore because ninety percent of the country's rice fields were submerged in hundreds of meters of salt water and the boxes upon boxes of imported alcohol were lost in warehouses of coastal cities that were long gone.

Thus, alcohol became a rarity. It wasn't being produced in Japan anymore – efforts were focused on bottling fresh water – and what little people did have was drunk at an alarmingly fast rate because they couldn't cope with the end of the world. Eventually, the price of alcohol soared high enough that it became feasible for companies to salvage it from shipwrecks and cities at the bottom of the ocean.

What this meant, in Shiranui's opinion, was that they were being forced into slave labour. Ignoring the legality of the operation, they would be retrieving what was millions of yen worth of alcohol, and not being paid a cent to do so.

The bus stopped, its doors creaking open. Shiranui exited.

One thing that improved since everything flooded: the bus service. The soaring cost of gas meant the number of vehicles on the road dropped dramatically, but people still needed to get around so the government spent a massive amount of money to increase the number of buses and their run times and routes.

It was a windy Sunday morning, the gulls were awake and mocking the port workers, and Shiranui shivered in excitement. She couldn't refrain from grinning.

The harbour was a comforting sight. She watched as fishing boats went out to sea in an orderly line, the gulls circling overhead, hoping they would find fish left out in the open, and the sky was cloudy but it wasn't cold enough to warrant wearing a sweater. It was different from Soviet ports – namely warmer, more organized, and no shady men were about, dealing with briefcases full of money – but with every step she felt like she was reentering familiar territory.

The largest boat in port was in the dry docks. It looked like it had formerly been a research vessel, but it was being refit as a salvage tug after receiving a particularly nasty gash in its side. Shiranui wasn't entirely sure how it had stayed afloat long enough to make it back to the docks, and she wondered if it was a victim of the Abyssals. Research vessels were equipped with stronger radios than most ships, so it might have been escorted to the USSR in attempt to make contact with the Soviets and Mongols. In either case, there were a scattering of men surrounding it, trying to look busy and succeeding very much at it.

Shiranui passed them, nearly running into Kagerou.

The girl hadn't noticed her yet, and Shiranui opened her mouth for a greeting, but quickly changed her mind. Silently, she watched.

Kagerou was standing slouched. Her head wasn't held high like it normally was, and she almost seemed like a statue eroded by the weather. She wore a grey, well used long-sleeve shirt, with a sweater wrapped around her waste, and cargo pants with an array of pockets. Her hair was missing the yellow ribbons and was instead bunched into a ponytail, making it as unobtrusive as possible, and she looked masculine, though a little petite.

Shiranui smiled to herself. Even though the girl was a Filles, she sure knew how to dress for a day of hard work.

She snuck past the girl, who was intently watching the action down in the dry docks. There was still twenty minutes before eight am; they weren't in a rush. And maybe she was a little afraid of what Kagerou would say to her.

Dock six revealed their ship. Well, rather, ship _s_. A pathetically undersized salvage tug was moored to the dock and a massive concrete floating platform, almost the size of a basketball court, was behind it, being secured by a dizzying amount of cables. Quantity over quality, to ensure it didn't break apart at sea and their cargo lost once again.

Shiranui approached, watching the men work.

The ship's cabin was one level, painted white, and would fit a dining table and a family of six nicely, but it was too small and too low to the ground for it to be considered a seaworthy vessel. There wasn't even much of a deck around it. On the sides, there was only enough room for one person to pass by, and the stern was covered by boxes and ropes, barely leaving enough room for the cabin's door to open and shut. The only real standing space was at the bow, but it was so low in the water that standing on the bow out at sea would result in being drenched by waves in minutes. Upon further inspection, she began to question if it was even a tugboat.

"No," she whispered to herself. "No way."

Hadn't Kashima said it was a equipped supply boat? The boat's hull was painted red, and what appeared to be a water cannon was mounted atop the cabin. Men were in the process of detaching the cannon. Across the boat, written in large yellow characters, ' _Kasagami_ '.

A man stepped down the plank from the boat, and approached her.

"Are you one of Kashima's students?"

She ignored his question, nodding instead towards his boat. "Is that a fucking fireboat?"

He winced, turning between her and the boat a few times. "It – it is, yes."

"And does it even have a winch?"

"We're installing them right now."

Shiranui groaned. "And it's seaworthy? Are you it's captain? Are you Conor?"

"Captain Conor MacKetian, at your service."

Last night, Shiranui had spend two hours wrapping up her homework in advance, knowing she wouldn't get much time to do it today, and then she had turned her idle thoughts towards the salvage operation. Normally, she would have spent the time working on her still active theories of how the world had become flooded, but the opportunity for a different challenge presented itself, and since her last conversation with Arare, where she had made a fool of herself, she jumped on the chance.

One of the most frustrating parts of the operation would be locating the actual wreck. They would need a strong metal detector, properly calibrated to not set off false alarms yet still be able to detect the _Irish Hazel_ , no matter how little iron and other metal it had aboard. There was a need to ensure everyone was briefed properly on safety. Tying knots and operating machinery – the winch especially – were so easy to screw up, costing time and potentially endangering the crew. It was important they planned ahead of time how – and where – they were going to secure their cargo. The bottles couldn't be in a lose container or they risk breaking when a wave hit the ship and jostled them. Depending on their solution, they might need to load pallets beforehand.

They would also need to check the ship's maximum load, considering the amount of tools and liquid they planned to bring aboard. Pulling along the barge would limit their maximum speed, put a constant strain on the engine, and severely hurt their fuel efficiency, limiting the maximum range of operation. And Shiranui wouldn't dare step aboard a ship without knowing how to use its radio, in case they needed to send out a distress signal. The salvaging itself would depend entirely on the depth of the wreck. If it was too deep for a free dive, which it probably was, they would need scuba equipment, or a miniature sub. The winch rope would need to be modified to the correct length and its engine strong enough to pull the cargo up and out of the water.

It would take weeks if they didn't find a good workflow, and taking into account the planning fallacy, things _would_ go wrong, and they would run into delays. They would need a backup winch, backup radios, flares, hundreds of meters of durable, quality rope, life jackets and lifeboats, medical supplies, flashlights, compasses, bilge pumps and buckets, fresh water, and a buoy and anchor to mark the location so they could find it easily the next day. There was more, too, but those were the most important things.

Staring at their fireboat, she doubted it would be able to carry everything they required for the job.

Shiranui struggled to find words. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Kagerou joined them, interrupting the silence which was quickly growing awkward.

"Shiranui," she scolded. "Have you learned nothing these past few days?"

Shiranui should have been running from the disaster in the making, but as soon as she heard Kagerou's voice, she felt relief. If those were the first words Kagerou wanted to say to her, then Shiranui could accept it. They were angry words, but not ones Kagerou would have chosen if she hated Shiranui and blamed her for the situation they were in. Maybe Kagerou was simply too nice of a person to realize it was all Shiranui's fault.

"I'm sorry," Shiranui said, managing not to sound it, "but look at that thing."

"It's all we could afford," Conor said. "Our previous trips drained our pockets."

"Previous trips?" Kagerou said.

He spared her a look.

"Oh, sorry. My name is Chisaka Kagerou, student of Professor Kashima at Kantai Academy. I'll be in your care today, please treat me well," she said with a bow.

Conor nodded, introducing himself while giving Shiranui a 'this is how you're supposed to act' look. Shiranui shrugged it off.

"Anyways," Conor said, turning to watch his men working on the floating platform. "We had a few successful trips, but the past two days we've ran into... issues. We've been behind schedule since the beginning, and we got nothing done in the last two days, so we've had issues with funding. To save money, we switched over to the fireboat as soon as we located the shipwreck. It shouldn't be an issue, though. If things go according to plan, we'll finish today."

"What previous runs, and what do you mean, finishing today?" Shiranui said.

"Did Kashima not fill you in on the details? This is day nine of Operation Poitin-" He grinned, though it felt forced. "We've retrieved thirteen thousand three hundred and forty four bottles of Guinness beer, nine thousand six hundred and one bottles of whiskey, and four thousand two hundred bottles of Poitin. We're nearly done, just a few more hours of work and we're done."

Shiranui took a step back, as if to better frame the picture Conor was painting. The last day of the operation? They were nearly done?

It should have been a relief, but instead Shiranui felt a great anger stirring within her. Closing her eyes, she could see Kashima's gloating face.

"Deceitful bitch," she whispered, though thankfully no one heard her.

It had all been a trick, and it had messed Shiranui up badly. She had pleaded and offered everything she had to Kashima, all the while the professor knew the reality behind their punishment. And still, Kashima had ruthlessly refused and denied Shiranui's every attempt.

Kagerou smiled, her innocence working wonders to calm Shiranui down. "I see. Professor Kashima led us to believe there was more work to be done."

Conor grunted. "Not surprising. She has a mean streak in her, that much I know."

Both girls nodded in agreement.

* * *

The fireboat, _Kasagami_ , left port less than an hour later, and Shiranui had broken several personal rules about water safety as she willingly stepped aboard the ship.

Liam, a young Irish man with a stereotypical red beard and green shirt, was riding on the floating platform, watching the towlines and making sure everything wasn't falling apart. He was hired muscle, and didn't know how to operate any of the machinery on board. If things did threaten to break, she was pretty sure he'd be too incompetent to do anything about it.

Inside the cabin, Hugh was fiddling with the radio, listening in on various broadcasts. The man was old, like grandfather age old, yet he was supposedly their communications man, winch operator, and general purpose fixer. He had three rolls of duct tape around his thin arm, leaving very little guesswork as to how he would fix any problems they ran into. She wouldn't put too much faith in Hugh.

Conor was at the wheel, perhaps more comfortable at sea than being insulted by a girl half his age on shore. Since taking the helm, his speech became curt. He would speak quickly, in short sentences, while always leaving a pause in between, like his words were a series of orders.

Ian was the final member of their crew. He was too tall to stand in the cabin without needing to bend down, so he stood at the stern of the ship, apparently making sure they didn't lose any of their boxes which cluttered the deck. Shiranui still didn't know what was in the boxes, but since they were only renting the ship, she didn't really care. They might have been for Operation Poitin, but it was just as likely they were leftover from the owners of the _Kasagami_ , holding junk that they didn't need anymore and hadn't gotten around to tossing.

Ian was a scuba diver. His job was to go down in the water, communicating to Hugh via radio to lead the winch rope to the cargo, where he would fill a net with alcohol, latch it onto the winch rope, and ensure it was properly ascending to the surface, before returning into the _Irish Hazel_ to prepare the next batch of salvage.

Liam would receive the winch's load on the concrete floating platform – literally a massive block of concrete supported by several rows of pontoons large enough to keep the platform sufficiently elevated above the water – and unload the alcohol so the winch could return to the wreck for more.

Conor, as captain of the ship, insisted he had to be at the helm at all times, so he wouldn't be able to assist in any of the labour. Shiranui didn't mind, and though most captains she knew were more lax about control of the helm, she took it as an indicator of Conor's competence. All in all, it was a surprisingly sound salvaging strategy, considering how few people they were working with.

Kagerou was leaning over a pile of old maps on a table in the corner of the cabin. Shiranui joined her.

"What're you looking for?" she asked.

Kagerou leaned down, aligning a ruler along the map. "It's not that far, but captain said it would take four hours to get there."

"We're dragging an eighty ton platform behind us. That slows us down quite a bit."

Kagerou nodded thoughtfully, looking out the window to watch Liam. The man was trying to do a handstand in the middle of the barge, but it ended up being a series of dangerous looking cartwheels. He stopped after Ian shouted something at him.

"We have three hours left," she said, looking at her watch.

Shiranui nodded.

"Let's talk," Kagerou said.

"Sure. About what?"

Kagerou fell silent for a moment, as though searching for a topic. "What were you doing skipping?"

"Well, walking is too boring, so I prefer to skip everywhere I go-"

Kagerou groaned. "Not what I meant. Why weren't you in class on Friday?"

"September 15th. Day my parents died. I take it off."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She swayed as the boat climbed a large wave, feeling everything shift forward as they dropped back into the sea, water spraying up and distorting the front facing glass. "Geez. I guess I should have lied. That was a real conversation killer."

"Sorry."

"Don't be."

"I – I should have left you alone. You were just sitting there, so I thought..."

"I'm glad you interrupted me. It's too easy for me to get lost in my thoughts."

Kagerou pursed her lips, like she wanted to say more.

Outside, Liam retrieved a cigarette from his coat pocket and began trying to light his lighter for a full minute. He finally gave up and shouted something, and a moment later Ian threw him another lighter. He struggled against the wind, turning his back to it before successfully managing to light his cigarette and taking a puff.

"I left you with your friend yesterday," Shiranui said. "I don't know her name."

"Michishio."

Shiranui grunted. "Her. You two are close. How do you know her?"

"Um. We met on the first day of school. I don't think we would have been friends if she hadn't approached me. She's really nice, you should meet her."

"Not interested. You made it home okay, then?"

"I did, thanks for asking."

Wordlessly, they both turned their attention back towards the map. It was around five hundred kilometers to the nearest Abyssal territory – Korea – yet Shiranui still felt uncomfortable. The _Kasagami_ would be a sitting duck for any Abyssal who found them. Unless they detached the barge, there was no chance of outrunning them, and even then, escape wasn't all too likely, considering how practiced the Abyssals were at sinking ships.

Kagerou yawned, covering her mouth with a fist.

"Tired?"

"A little," Kagerou said. "Was busy last night. Got home late and still had homework to do, and I tried making myself curry but the stove broke down so I had to go buy food and by the time I finished cleaning up and everything it was late."

"You a good cook?"

"I can feed myself. What about you?"

Shiranui shook her head, laughing. "No. I stay away from fires. I once managed to cut my hand on a can opener. I think it was trying to warn me."

Kagerou's eyes bored into her.

"What?" Shiranui said, trying to remember if she had said anything weird.

"I'm having a hard time believing you, is all. I expected you to say you were the island's best cook."

"I've got an ego, I'll admit, but I don't think it's that large. I like to be honest sometimes."

"Speaking of which, thank you."

"For?"

"Back in Professor Kashima's office – you tried to stand up for me."

Shiranui did more than that, not that she would let Kagerou know. "You're welcome, I guess. Though it was a failed attempt."

"You tried, and that made me happy."

Shiranui took a step back towards the cabin's door, grabbing her coat and shrugging it on. She shouldn't have been getting flustered from such a trivial conversation.

"Anything for you, my queen," she said with a grin and exaggerated bow. "Now, I'm going to chat with Ian, see what we're up against."

Not waiting for a response, she opened the door, struggling momentarily with the wind before stepping outside and shutting it behind her.

Ian noticed her immediately. Not only was he tall, but he stood alert, like a soldier. His eyes hardened and lips thinned as he watched her every movement.

"Shiranui, was it?" he said.

"That's me."

"You're red in the face. Is it that hot in the cabin?"

Shiranui took a step to the side, putting a hand against the window and peering in. She watched Kagerou pace back and forth a couple times, before sitting down at the table and picking up a deck of cards.

"You could say that," Shiranui ventured. "So, what's the down low? How long have you known Conor?"

"Calamity Conor has been plaguing me for six years now."

"Calamity Conor? Sounds ominous."

"He's got terrible luck. Started with the loss of _Irish Hazel_. Then looters broke into his house, did some stuff, looted his safe, and burned the place down. After that, his family was homeless and he kept trying new ventures. They all failed spectacularly. I can't say I'm the smartest fellow, staying around him."

"He pay well, or something?"

"Pay is conditional on the success of Operation Poitin. Since we've already got the majority of the load safe back in the warehouse, yeah. The pay is good."

Shiranui leaned against one of the boxes. It was nearly eight feet tall and whatever it contained was heavy. It didn't budge an inch when she put her whole weight against it. "He do much boating, since losing the _Irish Hazel_?"

Ian gave her an odd look. "Fair amount. You writing a report on him or something?"

"Just trying to understand the man whose hands I'm putting my life into." They were heading north-west, and she glanced out west. "Storm coming."

"Might be," Ian acknowledged, sitting down on a wide, low lying crate and crossing his legs.

"What about Liam? What's your relationship with him?"

Ian frowned, apparently tired of the questions. "I met him a few days ago, when Conor recruited him for the job. All I know is, if things went his way, we'd be drinking all thirty five thousand bottles from the _Irish Hazel_ , rather than selling them."

A roundabout way of calling someone an alcoholic. "Well, thanks for the info."

She walk past him and stepped out onto the edge of the stern. It was a short jump to make it to the barge.

"You going to chat up Liam, now?" Ian called out.

"I am. Problem?"

"Grab me my lighter while you're there."

"Sure thing."

She jumped the gap, landing with ease on the barge. It was sturdy. Two feet thick of concrete, it hardly swayed with the waves. Even though they wouldn't be filling the entire surface with their cargo, it was necessary to have such a large platform to keep the contents stable. It wasn't all flat cement, however. Around the edges, large metal hooks protruded upwards. There were fewer towards the center of the platform, but enough that any cargo could be easily secured. At the center of the barge, a pile of webbing.

Liam noticed her arrival, and jogged over.

"Man, I was dying of boredom out here," he said, giving her a once-over.

He looked around twenty, and though he was taller than Shiranui, he was much shorter than Ian. His freckled face had held a perpetual grin since she'd first seen him, and she desperately hoped he was aiming for the stereotypical Irish look, rather than it being a coincidence.

"Hey, hey, what's your friend's name?" he said.

"Kagerou," she said, immediately regretting it. He probably didn't even know her own name.

Liam was trying to peer past her, as though he would be able to see her inside the cabin from their distance.

"She got a boyfriend?"

"She's spoken for." The lie left her lips so easily. Maybe because she'd expected the question since she'd jumped onto the barge.

"Shame," Liam said. "Lemme know if they break up."

Kagerou nodded. At the very least, he would be an easy source of information, especially under the impression that she would help him get with Kagerou.

"You ever work for Conor, before this?"

"Nah, man. I hadn't heard of his name before this week."

Shiranui wasn't well versed in drugs, but she realized it wasn't a cigarette which he'd been smoking. She wrinkled her nose, taking a step back. Liam didn't seem to notice.

"So he just approached you and offered you a job?"

"Yeah, man. I was spending the afternoon at the rink – that's where us job seekers go – and he said he had an offer. Most people refused him because there was no pay up front. Gotta complete the job successfully, he says. I was the only one brave enough to accept," he boasted.

"Sounds like you know a good deal when you hear one."

He nodded his head vigorously. "Just unloading crates from the winch all day, and the pay is going to be insane."

"Crates?" The alcohol was already crated? That was news to her. She had just assumed they would be brought up in a massive net, and would have to be transferred to crates before being strapped to the barge.

"Yeah, yeah. I mean, sometimes it's an open lidded box and I got to be careful not to spill the bottles everywhere, but most of them are easy-to-handle crates. And I spoke with them other guys. Ian and Hugh. They say the captain's trustworthy. I ain't getting scammed here, I'm sure of it."

Shiranui nodded. "I agree."

She walked past him, approaching the webbing in the center of the platform. Picking one up, she pulled it free from the pile. They were two inches wide, made of a sturdy fabric, yet still very thin.

Asheville had recently released a report on a synthetic polymer called nylon that was much stronger than previous materials and meant to replace silk in various products. They were tough enough to be used in flak vests and parachutes, though Shiranui didn't think Japan had a nylon processing plant.

She tugged the webbing. It wasn't familiar material. Had Conor somehow acquired nylon? It was expensive, and this operation was supposed to be low key.

"You some kind of rope enthusiast?" Liam said, following her.

"What is this stuff?"

"High grade, super high tensile stuff, the captain said. Our cargo ain't going nowhere."

She dropped the webbing back into the pile.

Turning her attention back towards the _Kasagami_ , she noticed Ian stepping inside the cabin.

"Listen, I gotta go-"

"Oh man, already? It's boring out here. Keep me company."

She looked west, watching the skies. A storm was coming, no matter what everyone else was thinking. It was pretty far out, though. Would it pass them by? She doubted it. Intuition told her it would head straight for Calamity Conor.

"Lighter," she said, holding out her hand.

Liam looked at her hand, confused, before eyes widening in comprehension. He handed it over.

"Just think of all the money you're going to make. I'm sure that will help stave off the boredom."

The barge was at the same height as _Kasagami_ , so she didn't need to, but she took a running head start to jump the gap.

Aboard the fireboat, the waves made themselves apparent again.

She hesitated a moment, then moved quickly to the doorway. From her position, a crate was blocking Liam from seeing her, and the cabin's door had no windows, so nobody inside could watch her either.

Her first concern had been the radioman, Hugh. He was old. Too old. While experienced men were always valuable aboard a ship, it would have been appropriate to have a younger, stronger man. Hugh wouldn't be able to offer any muscle in case of an emergency. Why had he been chosen, then? The nylon, and the metal detector she hadn't yet had a chance to examine, were both beyond a small operational budget that she'd thought they were operating under. The small things didn't add up.

When she first boarded the ship, she had dismissed the crates packed on the stern, but she had gotten a better look at them during her conversation with Ian. They were relatively new. Recently moved aboard. So, what was in them?

She bent down. Passing underneath the cabin window, she grabbed a crowbar that lay between the wall and one of the medium sized crates. She cracked the crate open and checked its contents. It wasn't alcohol, nor was it a pile of life jackets, as she had hoped. Regretting her decision to snoop, she quickly pulled the lid back on, hammering the corners down until it looked like it hadn't been opened. She dropped the crowbar back in place, and returned to the door, scratching her head.

What kind of friends did Kashima have?

Inside the box had been a large, black painted, metal sphere, almost a meter in diameter. Shiranui had watched one explode before, back when she was a kid, but she hadn't ever expected to see one again, especially not in a fireboat off the coast of Japan. They had primarily been used in World War I against Germany to prevent U-boats from freely operating in the North Atlantic. The Allies had placed over seventy thousand mines along the entrance to the North Sea, a massive task that hadn't paid dividends by the end of the war. Cleanup efforts had begun in 1919, using wires dragged through the ocean between two ships, intending on breaking the mines free and letting them drift up to the surface, where they would be then detonated by bullets. This effort had only resulted in a pitiful fraction of the mines being cleared, and almost every year since then, a civilian ship would be lost to a stray mine.

When the Flooding began, the mines broke free of their own accord and drifted up to the surface of the water.

Shiranui's parents had been involved in a later cleanup attempt, in 1933, and she had spent a month aboard one of the minesweeping ships, so she was familiar with their yield. The Mk-6 mines were dangerous. Though the dangers were primarily from shockwaves underneath the water, she had little doubts about what would happen if one exploded aboard the _Kasagami_.

It took her a few minutes to come to terms with the fact, and she somehow found herself calm enough to retrieve the crowbar again, and set to opening the next crate, which was much smaller and wouldn't be able to hold a submarine sinking device. She hoped.

Shiranui shook her head upon taking in sight of the contents. No, a pile of fragmentation grenades wouldn't be able to sink a submarine. Japanese Type-99 fragmentation grenades. She picked one up, turning the cylindrical object around in hand. The black metal was cold in her hands, and it was heavy enough she couldn't convince herself it was empty. Carefully, she put it back in the container and sealed the box.

She looked around. Most of the other crates were either of the size for a mine, or for a pile of grenades. There was no reason to check them. Only two more boxes caught her attention. They were the larger ones. Both of similar size, one was standing vertically, while the other – which Ian had been sitting on earlier – lay flat on the deck. They were about eight feet tall and four feet by four feet at the base.

She approached the horizontal one, which Ian had sat on when she was talking with him. Fitting the crowbar snugly under the lid, she pried it open.

She lifted it no more than a foot before she saw the contents. Her reaction was completely instinctive, as she pulled away, letting the lid close shut with a thump and the crowbar clatter to the ground, forgotten. Wanting as much distance between herself and the crate as possible, she backed up until she bumped into one of the mine carrying crates. There, her legs could no longer support her, and she dropped to the ground, staring blankly ahead, not understanding what she had just seen.

It took her a moment before she realized the danger she – and Kagerou – were in. As though she'd forgotten how to walk, she crawled forward to push the crowbar out of sight, and then she dragged herself to the _Kasagami's_ railings, where she looked out over the water, clutching her chest and listening to the thumping of her heart.

Shiranui felt lightheaded, and thankfully she was young and healthy, otherwise she'd probably have had heart attack. Instead, she didn't know if she wanted to faint, throw up, or throw herself off the ship.

* * *

 **A/N:** The North Sea Mine Barrage was a minefield made during the first world war. There was, however, no 'second cleanup attempt' in 1933. They did a shit job of it in 1919 and washed their hands of it.

The story's pace is about to pick up as Operation Poitin gets underway.


	6. Operation Poitin - Part II

_Excerpts from Abyssal Theory textbook, first edition, by Reid and Ito._

 _..._

 _Section 2.4: Abyssal Communication_

 _On October 25_ _th_ _, 1936, extraterrestrials attacked multiple locations across the planet, simultaneously. Parts of China, Turkey, and multiple locations in Africa came under attack, while hundreds of commercial ships were sank across the globe. In mere hours, millions of people died and Abyssals took control of the oceans. This wide-scale attack indicates coordination which humans are not yet capable of._

 _Abyssals have shown not only to be adept at macro attacks, but small scale battles, too. Reports from the Chinese, Mongolians, and Russians indicate that the Abyssals can communicate relatively quickly, without visual or audio cues. Some examples of such: a squad of Mongolians flanking the enemy, when spotted, were immediately barraged from multiple locations, not all of which had a line of sight to their position. Russian soldiers report Abyssals on the front line share situational awareness. Their F1 anti-personnel grenades would scatter the Abyssals immediately, without the information of the explosive threat being apparently communicated. Furthermore, communication between individual enemy squads enables them to outmaneuver human soldiers with ease, and they have never taken an unfavorable battle._

 _Research into the capabilities of the Abyssals, while still ongoing, has revealed multiple theories. One such theory is low-level telepathy._

 _..._

 _Section 5.7: The British Columbian Tea Party_

 _On July 1_ _st_ _, 1938, a Canadian cruise ship, refitted as a cargo vessel, was returning from an exchange of goods with Japan. Unescorted, it had traded beer for gold at Ina, the capital of the Japanese Archipelago. With a crew of thirty and several crates of gold, the ship was returning to port in Vancouver. Approximately two hundred kilometers off the coast of Vancouver Island, British Columbia, the ship had an encounter with an Abyssal._

 _The captain of the ship reported, both in his log and orally, the following events, which has since became known as the British Columbian Tea Party._

 _The cruise ship purportedly stopped its engines and its crew invited the young Abyssal, who had shown no signs of hostility, aboard for tea and biscuits. The Abyssal accepted the invitation, and for three hours in the afternoon of July 1_ _st_ _, held conversation with the ship's crew, revealing a wealth of information relating to its species. There were no reports of injuries, and the ship successfully returned to the port with its cargo of gold._

 _The following was claimed to have been said by the Abyssal:_

 _-only younger Abyssals (see section 2.2 for Abyssal's and age) are capable of telepathy_

 _-telepathy expends a resource which cannot be restored by the current technology on Earth_

 _-the telepathy is fallible:_

 _-some types of materials between telepaths can prevent communication – notably, gold has a significant reduction effect_

 _-'young' female humans can disrupt communication, simply by being present near one of the telepaths_

 _-since arriving on Earth, Abyssals adopted names in accordance with the planet's customs_

 _-Abyssal politics are several magnitudes worse than human politics_

 _-Maria likes green tea_

 _..._

 _Though this event appears to be a wealth of information, two factors must be taken into account. First, due to the nature of Canadians, the entire occurrence may be a fabrication (see section 1.3 for Canada and the Flooding). There is no precedence for a non-violent conversation with the Abyssals. Tho_ _ugh they have proven capable of speaking multiple languages (section 2.4), most communication has been limited to threats, interrogation, and, in one case, a trade of hostages (see section 5.3 for the Bogot_ _á_ _Hostage Incident). Because of this, it is difficult to believe the Canadians offered tea to an Abyssal, who then accepted and proceeded to reveal her s_ _pecies most valuable secrets._

 _In the possibility that humans and Abyssals did share tea (see section 2.5 for Abyssal's and ingestion of liquid), there is also no reason to believe the Abyssal was telling the truth. The fact remains, however, that some of the information was later verified by Asheville._

 _..._

 _Section 5.8: Post-Operation Regret_

 _Within three months of the British Columbian Tea Party, Operation Regret, executed by the Asheville government, resulted in the capture of three Abyssals. Asheville then confirmed the following information: gold and female humans are capable of interrupting transmission of information between Abyssals._

 _They also debunked one popular theory, in which telepathy shared traits with gamma radiation. A pile of gold bars between two subjects disabled communication, despite the gaps between the gold obstacle._

 _.._

 _Human females, aged 18 years old, within five hundred meters of the Abyssal subjects resulted in a complete shutdown of telepathic communication. The effectiveness decayed and at one kilometer an estimated ninety percent of information reached its target. It is in part due to Asheville's research that the Kantai Project limited applicants to females (see section 0.4 for the Project's outline). No data was acquired for the 'age' variable on the effectiveness of telepathy obstruction._

 _..._

 _The Abyssal prisoners of the Asheville government passed away five weeks after capture. Their names, if they indeed had ones, were not discovered. Methods used to extract information and performs the tests are classified, though there is little doubt physical and mental torture were applied. In regards to the Geneva Convention of 1929, Asheville argued that Abyssals did not qualify for the protections offered to prisoners of war by the provisions in articles one through ninety seven of the convention because they are not lawful combatants, nor are Abyssals human._

* * *

Shiranui took an hour to recover.

Her mind racing, she had returned to the barge – nearly failing the jump to cross over – and sat on its stern, her legs dangling two meters above the ocean as she watched the water churning in its wake. Liam approached her, trying for conversation several times, but each time she brushed him off.

She had many questions, and not enough answers. Whatever they were doing out at sea, she couldn't believe salvaging alcohol was the primary goal. Did Kashima know what was going on, or was she oblivious to what her students were now involved in?

She tried, for several minutes, to ignore the pressure on her ankle, but finally gave up and brought her legs up onto the barge, pulling her jeans up to her knees. Around her leg, a metal bracelet. Two tags were attached to it, and they had been sitting at awkward angles, digging into her skin. She adjusted the dog tags, pausing to read one of them.

 _NOMI, JPN_

 _Nobori Shiranui_

 _27644437 – 1922/05/23_

 _BLD GRP: NULL_

Once upon a time, before the Flooding and arrival of the Abyssals, they might have used some of the real estate on the tag for religion. The reason they stopped wasn't because people abandoned religion – quite the opposite, in most cases – but because there were so many corpses and people had become pragmatic. They couldn't afford to observe special customs, and instead burned all the dead. Graveyards were a time of the past. Space had always been a problem in Japan, but the Flooding made it even worse, and any flat area was used for farmland rather than burying the dead. Even sports fields were uncommon, and Kantai Academy had the third largest on the island.

Shiranui found it odd, though, that they insisted on including Nomi, her hometown, on the dog tag. By coincidence, Nomi was also the location of Kantai Academy, so she'd lived in the same town since the last year of middle school, but there was no reason for the dog tags to include the data. Otherwise, it was straightforward information, aside from the antiquated use of 'null' to denote the O blood type.

She had received her dog tag within two weeks of moving to Japan, at her parents' insistence. Most people did have them, but it was entirely optional. She hadn't seen one on Kagerou, during fitness class – but that might have been because Shiranui was entirely focused on the girl's face and chest, rather than her ankles. But it was just as likely that Kagerou stored it in her locker for the duration of the class, or even left it at home. Some people couldn't get used to wearing them.

Shiranui wasn't one of those people, however. She had five dog tags in total, keeping the unused four as somber mementos, stored under her bed back in Awesome dorm. Her Russian dog tag was her only non-civilian one. Since the Flooding, many governments couldn't keep up with the number of deaths, so they issued civilian dog tags. Then, when someone died, it was a simple process to forward the name or ID to a nearby operation center, and dispose of the body. Relatives would eventually learn of the person's death, and it granted some closure amid the chaos. Shiranui also had tags from Chile, Poland, and Norway, all accrued when her parents were dragging her around the world.

She wore her Japanese tags at all times, and generally wasn't aware of it. Even during the winters, the cold metal somehow escaped her notice. Maybe she could attribute it to good quality boots, because she'd never gotten frostbite from her dog tags before.

At some point during her calming session, when she had looked back to the _Kasagami_ , she had seen Ian had returned to his position watching the crates. It made sense why they needed someone out there watching.

Taking a deep breath, Shiranui left the barge, and returned to the fireboat.

"You actually enjoy his company, or something?" Ian asked.

Shiranui shrugged, not yet feeling up to the task of speaking. Each step she took closer to the crates, the less comfortable she felt. Passing the crate Ian was protecting, she half expended to hear a muffled screaming or banging sound. There was only silence. It took all her willpower to act normally.

She opened the cabin door, but Ian put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

Despite spending so long trying to come to terms with the crate's contents, she panicked. Did he know she was snooping around? Did she not properly fix the lids of the crates she had opened?

She nearly took a swing at him, but realized it wasn't a fight she could win. Instead, she flinched. A rather obvious reaction that she hoped wouldn't give her away.

"Lighter," he said. "You remember it?"

Mechanically, she reached into her pocket, fished it out, and handed it over. He let her go. She entered the cabin.

Inside, Hugh was toying with dials at the control panels, the duct tape around his arm was much more ominous than, earlier, she might have ever imagined possible. Conor stood at the helm in the exact same spot he had been in hours ago, and she saw for the first time a box at his feet. Noticing small things that had previously escaped her attention was proof that she was much more alert than earlier. The box was small, rectangular, and metal. Possibly a safe of some sort, though she didn't even want to begin to imagine its contents.

Kagerou was sitting, playing cards scattered on the table. Shiranui pulled a seat up close to Kagerou and sat down, dropping her chin on the table a little harder than intended, and staring at the cards. She wanted to act normal, and normal meant conversation, even if she wasn't in the mood for it.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

She might have entered too close into Kagerou's personal space, because the girl inched her chair away.

"Playing solitaire. Or at least trying to."

The boat lurched, and Kagerou's hands darted out, trying to stop the cards from moving, but she was too slow and they spread out over the table, the piles ruined.

"Seems like a pretty futile effort."

Kagerou stopped cleaning the mess. "Are you alright? You seem a little off."

"Fine."

"Are you lying to me?"

More than she would ever know. At the very least, talking to Kagerou helped Shiranui feel better.

"You know, I was wondering something," she said, changing the subject. "When Kashima asked for us to choose our punishment, why did you say mental?"

Cards forgotten, Kagerou stared down at the table. "Because, you know... the lie you told."

"I tell lots of lies. Care to elaborate?"

"About – about my time of the month."

"Oh. And?"

"And what?" Kagerou half whispered, refusing to meet her eyes. "It's more believable that way."

Shiranui gave her a blank look.

"Because, you know... cramps."

"Oh." That was right. She remembered her mother telling her that some girls experienced cramps during their time of the month. While Shiranui liked learning more about Kagerou, she wasn't entirely sure if she was proud of her newest discovery. Time for a new topic. "You don't live on campus, do you?"

"No. I'm renting an apartment. It's near the academy. Twenty minute walk."

"Are you sharing it with Michishio?"

"No," Kagerou said, giving her an odd look. "The thought never occurred to me... but I am running low on funds, and I think she's renting too."

"Don't do it," Shiranui said, regretting giving her the idea. "I bet Michishio snores really loudly."

Kagerou looked at her doubtfully, and Shiranui couldn't help but smile.

"If you're running low on funds, come join me in the dorms. I'll kick my roommate out."

"Who's your roommate? You don't like her?"

"She had a temper, and she smokes. I probably won't even need to kick her out. The fact that the RA hasn't caught her yet is sheer luck, and if smoking doesn't do her in, then something else will. I haven't read the dorm rules, but I think she's breaking every single one of them."

"At least she's not skipping," Kagerou said with a straight face. "Even a pet?"

"Yes. A mini pig. And I swear she's going to cook that thing up on the last day of school and make enough borscht with it for everyone in the dorm."

Kagerou laughed, and it was a lovely sound. Suddenly, Operation Poitin didn't seem so bad.

"I've never had borscht before," she said.

"I'll make sure to invite you over, then."

She realized a moment later that Kagerou was a Filles, so it might not go over so well. Kagerou fell silent too, maybe realizing the same thing. She still had the faint remnants of a smile on her face, however, and Shiranui watched as she collected the playing cards and began to shuffle them. It took a while, staring at the girl, but Shiranui realized they weren't friends. They were forced together by circumstances, and Kagerou was too nice to show any signs of distaste when interacting with her.

She turned to Conor. "We close?"

"Nearly there," Conor said, not turning his head.

"Storm's coming." It was just before noon, and the more time that passed, the stronger her suspicion grew that they would be working in rough weather.

"Ian said you said so."

Ian must have believed her, and that was why he abandoned the crates and stepped inside for a few minutes. She wished she hadn't mentioned it to him, which had given her the opportunity to snoop. When they had been talking earlier, his odd stares were now clear: annoyance, suspicion, concern. She would have to alleviate them, especially if he'd told Conor she was being nosy.

"I agree, though," Conor continued. "There's one coming. Might be big. But we can't turn around. We're all out of money. Need to finish the job today."

They didn't need to, though. Shiranui estimated they had eighty percent of the cargo. Either they could give up on the remaining, if they deemed it inefficient to retrieve, or they could sell what they had already and use the revenue to mount another operation to finish the job. Conor's insistence on getting it done today meant something. He even acknowledged the option of turning around, only to say it was an impossibility. Whatever they were doing with the cargo they brought out to sea, it needed to be done today.

"Okay," Shiranui said with a shrug. "We'll work quickly. With two extra sets of hands, it shouldn't be a problem."

She stood up and joined Hugh at the control panels. A few instruments, knobs, dials, and screens were familiar, but many more weren't. It had been a few years since she'd run through the basics, but she had already verified she knew how to send out a distress call.

Hugh was the only person she hadn't yet spoken to on the ship, but now she was cautious, afraid of drawing any suspicion. Focusing on the job would be a good start.

"Show me how to operate the winch," she said, making it half question half request.

Hugh looked at her, his face wrinkling as he frowned. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Conor give a faint nod.

"Fine," he grunted, standing up.

They of them moved to the neighbouring wall, where two similar and surprisingly small metal boxes were bolted against it.

"Left winch box is for Ian. Handles his tether and oxygen line. Wreckage is at three hundred meters, so we'll be installing four hundred meters of line when we get there. Don't go above thirty on the speed dial if you find yourself managing him. Right winch box is for the salvage. It has a thinner tether and no oxygen line. You can go an easy fifty on the speed."

Shiranui nodded, sensing Kagerou joining them from behind.

Hugh flicked a switch on the left box to 'on'. "Speed," he said, turning a dial. "Keep on thirty. Lateral movement knob." Outside the window, the winch arm moved out over the ocean. Its main structure was bolted to the cabin's roof, and had an access ladder out front on the deck. "Pay in, pay out." He pressed the buttons, but no rope was installed on the winch so the spool rotated empty. "Big red button," he pointed at the big red button. "Do not press. It drops the line. Ian would die."

A machine back at the control panel began to beep. Hugh stepped over, looking at a black screen with a green graph printed on it.

"We're here. Forty more meters west-north-west," he said.

Shiranui looked west, out the window.

"I don't see anything," she said a minute later, when the ship slowed and the engine's whining began to die down.

"Not marked," Conor said.

"What? Why not?"

"Don't want other people looting our cargo."

"How do you know where it is, then?" she asked, moving towards Hugh and the control panels.

He stepped forward, blocking her view.

"Metal detector," he said, followed by an ugly cough. He wouldn't drop dead before they finished the job, would he?

"I see."

She did see. He hadn't been fast enough to block all of the screens.

The computer's graph had shown distance, in meters, along the X axis, and concentration of 'Au' along the Y axis. The plot itself spiked at zero meters, indicating they were directly above a large concentration of 'Au'. Gold. She was reminded of the reading Kashima had assigned them yesterday. Females and gold were both known to block the Abyssals' telepathy. The picture in her mind started to take shape, and she didn't know how to feel about it.

Yesterday, back in Kashima's office, if she had just kept quiet and let Kagerou choose their detention then everything would have been fine.

"To work, everyone," Conor shouted.

They stepped outside the cabin, crowding into the space on deck and leaving Hugh behind, in the shelter of the cabin. Even Conor left the helm, which surprised her. Ian rose at their arrival and Liam approached, though he remained on the barge.

"Open her up," Conor said, motioning towards the large vertical crate.

Shiranui took a step back reflexively, grabbing Kagerou's arm.

"Something wrong?" Kagerou asked.

Shiranui didn't respond. What exactly was Conor planning on doing? Did he think he would knock them unconscious and drop them into a submerged pile of gold, alongside a collection of American Mk-6 mines, a box of Japanese grenades, and a smattering of extraterrestrials? She failed to see the logic behind it, but knew there had to be some kind of reasonable explanation. At the moment, however, it sounded like a recipe for disaster.

"Hurts," Kagerou said, trying to pull away.

Shiranui lightened her grip. She was tense, ready for battle. No one appeared to have guns, but if any one of them held a small pocket knife, then it would all be over. "Kagerou, we need to-"

The box creaked as Ian pried a vertical face off the box. She tried taking another step back, but bumped into a crate. There was nowhere to go. Shiranui's heart stopped. The crate swung open like a door.

There was no Abyssal inside. Shiranui felt faint with relief.

"You're afraid of that?" Kagerou said, giggling.

Shiranui was too distracted to appreciate the cute sound.

The contents of the box was a large, metal suit. In the shape of a fat human body and completely hollow, it had massive joints around its knees and arms, and its hands were large spheres with pincer claws attached on the end. Its chest and head were a cylindrical shape with a thick glass window in front of the face and multiple valves around the head. The entire thing was painted brown and had to have weighed a ton.

Shiranui recognized it as an atmospheric diving suit.

"So, what do you think of the Tritonia, girls?" Ian asked, hooking up an oxygen cable to the suit.

"It scares her," Kagerou said.

"Shuddup."

"We purchased her from the British. Capable of going down to three hundred and seventy meters, though we don't want to test it that deep, she's the best of the best for deep water work."

In retrospect, Shiranui should have expected it. She had acknowledged that they would need someone down in the wreckage, and at such a depth it simply wasn't possible without a submarine or other method to limit the pressure on the human body, yet she had assumed the worst. In her mind, both of the large crates had contained an alien. If they already had one Abyssal prisoner and enough explosives to blow the _Kasagami_ to smithereens five times over, why not have two?

The more she learned, the higher budget their operation seemed to have. Yet all they could afford was a fireboat? Some elements still didn't add up.

"I didn't think you would be afraid of a diving suit," Kagerou said, poking her.

Shiranui decided she liked being poked, but perhaps not for acting like a coward, and not with two grown men around to see it.

"I'm not," she said.

"And now you're lying."

"Fine, whatever."

Shiranui and Kagerou would have hindered more than helped if they stayed, so they jumped over to the barge, leaving Conor and Ian to work on hooking everything up to the winch.

"Hey girls," Liam said as they joined him. He held a pile of industrial sized straps and webbing. "You ready for some heavy lifting?"

* * *

The process went smoothly, and Shiranui couldn't believe they had managed with only four people before.

She operated the cargo winch, at her request, and Hugh handled the radio communications between the _Kasagami_ and Ian, who was lowered into the water below. Hugh also operated the winch that held Ian's oxygen line and tether, though Shiranui insisted she could handle it too. She hadn't had a chance to speak much with Hugh, but she assumed he was close friends with Ian. In fact, the age difference was enough that they might have been father and son, and they even shared some of the same mannerisms.

Much to Shiranui's dismay, with the way things had worked out, Kagerou and Liam were working together on the barge. With Kagerou's help, it only took seconds to unhook the crates from the winch, and they were moving at a surprisingly fast pace. The largest slowdown was at the bottom of the sea, where it took several minutes for Ian to attach another load from the _Irish Hazel_ to the winch and signal for them to tow it up.

She couldn't imagine how terrible the visibility was down there. Even though they had customized the Tritonia to include a large, powerful flashlight, a single step on the ocean floor could stir up enough silt to reduce visibility to nothing in seconds, and depending on the type of seabed, the Tritonia risked sinking into the sediment with every step Ian took.

The wind had picked up within recent minutes, and a light rain whipped against the windows.

Shiranui spent half her time watching Kagerou and Liam, both adorned in bright yellow rain coats, and was prepared to abandon the winch and jump out there to separate them if anything happened. Liam seemed like a nice guy, but he had already shown interest in Kagerou, and Shiranui wasn't about to trust the man – or Kagerou, for that matter.

A flash of light, and clouds in the distance rumbled. The storm would hit them soon.

She was operating the winch as fast as possible, yet they wouldn't be done in time. Even if they finished within the next half hour, packing up and leaving would take a while, and towing the barge brought their speed down drastically. They would be caught in the storm no matter what they did.

If she hadn't known about the illicit cargo on the stern of the ship, she would have been surprised by Conor's behaviour. In spite of his earlier determination to stand at the helm at all times, he spent half his time walking around the ship. He would check the stern, the ropes connecting the barge, and the cargo winch, and then he would circle around to the front, where he would be blasted by waves. Multiple times, he climbed halfway up the ladder that led to the roof of the cabin, checking on the heavy duty winch that was responsible for bringing Ian back to the surface when the job was done.

Knowing the truth behind his movements, it was little consolation that he appeared confident and had a sharp eye. At the very least, their winches and ropes would be under close observation.

Conor stepped into the cabin again.

"Winds are getting stronger," he said.

Hugh only nodded. The crackle of Ian's voice across the radio made him stand up – his actions painfully slow – and move to the winch controls to give the tether more slack. Shiranui had been waiting too long for Ian's call to bring the next crate up.

"It's been fourteen minutes," she said. "What's taking him?"

"Patience, girl," Conor said, leaving the cabin again.

She obeyed.

* * *

Just when Shiranui was thinking everything was going as planned, a winch broke down. It was the cargo winch, thankfully, but Conor had tried to blame it on her because she was the one operating it. To her surprise, Hugh jumped in, saying she had done nothing wrong. Conor immediately dropped the issue.

They had already been at work for several hours, so they hauled Ian back up for a break while Hugh went to work on the winch's engine. Conor joined him on the roof, and despite the rough weather, Ian lay atop the crate that held their prisoner, eyes closed as he regained strength for the next trip under.

Liam, Kagerou, and Shiranui played poker inside the cabin. Shiranui had only been caught cheating once.

They also took the opportunity to eat, so they would be fully prepared to return to the job at a moment's notice. The storm was moving slow, and it seemed to stop just before hitting them, as if it were contemplating turning around. She almost wished it had passed during the winch's down time, so they wouldn't be working during the storm.

At six pm, after losing several hours of good daylight, the winch started working again. She didn't complain, but knew the work left remaining and the return trip would mean they wouldn't arrive back home before midnight. It was better than joining Operation Poitin from the first day, though. Again, she silently cursed Professor Kashima.

* * *

At nine pm, sky overcast and dark, the radio crackled to life again, but it wasn't the one attuned to Ian. There were no voices. Instead, it began to beep rapidly in a high pitched tone, like a Morse signal played at three times speed. It drew Hugh's immediate attention. He spun the volume dial to maximum. The beeping stopped, and a moment later, a voice filled the cabin.

"Please wait... message from... Agency. Please stand... Warning. Typhoon warning in... Meteorology Agency has issued a typhoon... Nagano region. Waves... meters high... areas mentioned. Everyone on... must evacuate to higher... Heavy rainfall and..."

 _Typhoon._ The word chilled her.

Conor burst into the cabin, shaking rain from his coat. He must have heard the voice from outside, because he was standing still, listening intently. Shiranui couldn't help but remember what Ian had called him. Calamity Conor was living up to his name.

Hugh finally finished messing with the dials, and the voice cleared up immediately.

"The storm has been classified as a severe typhoon and is expected to hit the coast around eleven pm. Winds upwards of ninety knots are expected. It is advised that all ships at sea return to port, and everyone evacuate to higher ground."

The message began to repeat. They listened to it in silence. It started again, in a different language, and Hugh turned the volume down.

Conor and Hugh exchanged a glance, and then Conor looked over his shoulder, towards the stern of the ship, where the crates were.

"We finish the job," he said. "Shiranui, go outside to assist Liam and Kagerou. I'll handle the cargo winch."

He stepped forward, practically pushing her aside, and took the controls. The first thing he did was turn the speed dial up to seventy. Hugh shot him a dirty look.

Aboard a ship, Shiranui always obeyed the captain. There was no questioning the man in charge. She grabbed a raincoat and flashlight, and stepped outside. Immediately, the wind began whipping the coat against her body. She braced herself and passed by the mines, grenades, and the Abyssal. The sky was dark, and shining the flashlight out to sea, every wave she saw was white capped and twice the size they had been before. Off towards the horizon, some looked to be taller than the _Kasagami_.

Behind her, the salvage winch creaked under pressure. They were bringing up another load of cargo. The boat was rocking, though the barge was more stable. She waited a minute and jumped once she was confident she had the timing right.

A little less elegant than usual, she landed on the concrete. Waves crashed against the sides of the pontoons, and water splashed up vertically, creating a fine, warm mist that was overshadowed by the storm's rain. Shiranui joined the others, huddled in the dark in the middle of the platform with only three beams of light to see what they were doing. She had to shout to be heard over the wind and rain.

"You guys managing? Conor sent me to help."

"Much appreciated, my man," Liam said, nodding towards the winch.

The next load was being lifted out of the water.

Shiranui looked around, taking in the situation. The winch's arm only extended a few meters onto the barge, so they would need to move to the edge, unhook the load, signal Conor in the cabin, and then once the winch rope was out of they way, they would have to struggle to bring the crate towards the center, where they could strap it to the other crates and the concrete floor.

The process worked exactly as she had envisioned, though the storm – typhoon – was worsening. She had never been in one before, only the aftermath. It was odd, because everything was so warm. The wind felt nice as it rustled her hair, and the rain pelting her face was distracting as it dripped down her face and dampened her shirt underneath the raincoat, but it wasn't cold.

Winds of ninety knots would be enough to create nasty waves and capsize a boat, and the wind was steadily growing stronger, approaching the ninety knot estimation. The barge would be fine in all but the worst weather, so her concern was more for Conor and Hugh, and by extension Ian.

It was an odd thought, but Ian wasn't experiencing any of the weather. Down at the bottom of the ocean, everything must have been completely calm and quiet. There was no rain, no wind, and the ocean's currents wouldn't be able to budge the Tritonia given a hundred years. He was in a completely different world than them. Whether it was safer or not, Shiranui couldn't say.

Conor's decision to send her out to help had been wise. The wind fought against their movement, and all three of them were almost always busy, whether it was moving the crates, securing them, providing light for the others, or handling the webbing and planning for the next crate. The crates were in surprisingly good condition for having been submerged for seven years. Shiranui wondered if it was a lie, and maybe they weren't salvaging from the _Irish Hazel_ at all.

When one crate broken open, bottles spilled out and glass shattered against the pavement. Alcohol poured out onto the cement, but was just as quickly washed away by the rain. She wasn't sure if he was joking or not, but Liam dropped to the ground and began licking it.

That had been her only opportunity to verify they were dealing with bottles, and not gold bars or something more sinister.

* * *

At the height of the storm, it happened.

Liam, Kagerou, and Shiranui were at the barge's edge, waiting for the approaching crate.

They were probably the only ship out on the ocean, and lightning was simply obeying the laws of physics.

It struck the _Kasagami_ with a bright light and deafening roar that penetrated her whole body. Due to her eyes having adapted to the dark, the flash of light literally blinded her.

It was nothing like Shiranui had ever experienced before, and all three of them dropped to the ground, seeking solace in the solid pavement. Her vision cleared and she realized, much too late, the damage the lightning strike had done. The salvage winch, carrying a crate of almost two hundred bottles of alcohol, went haywire. It was barrelling towards them, threatening to knock them off the barge and into the ocean.

Shiranui scrambled.

She realized she wouldn't make it in time, and Kagerou was still two meters away.

"Kagerou!" she shouted, not knowing if the girl heard her.

Under absolutely no circumstances would she let harm come to the girl. It was supposed to be Shiranui's punishment, Kashima had said so herself. It was all Shiranui's fault. Yet she felt completely helpless in the moment, and knew if anything happened, she wouldn't ever forgive herself. She would be better off throwing herself into the typhoon than returning to shore alive and alone.

In the chaos, Liam must have dropped his flashlight, because he appeared without warning to push Kagerou aside, stumbling into the position she had been in a moment ago. The crate crashed into him and sent him flying back. He hit the cement, and Shiranui saw his head impact much too hard, and though she was probably imagining it, with the ambiance of the rain and thunder, she heard a crack from the collision. The wind and his momentum rolled him off the edge of the barge and out into the darkness.

Shiranui rose to her feet. She spared a glance towards Kagerou, ensuring the girl was safe.

There was no thinking. She already knew the circumstances. There was no time for her to grab a rope or flotation device. Liam was in the ocean, unconscious, and that meant three minutes before he was dead. She ran, her rain boots slamming into the wet pavement with every step. There was no time to take them off, nor her rain jacket – not that she wanted to, considering the yellow plastic was her best chance at being found once in the water.

At the edge, she didn't stop, or even slow. All she had was a fraction of a second before she left the barge, and she desperately tried to shine the flashlight out to sea, but she couldn't see any sign of Liam. Instead, a chaotic canvas of frothy white and black water covered everything, and there was nothing in it but droplets of rain and their ripples.

She didn't so much as dive into the ocean as fall headfirst, bringing her hands above her head to drill into the water while making sure not to drop her flashlight.

In very few aspects was it like her fourteen meter dive into the ocean during fitness class the other day. The pressure here was too much – a human being's life depended on her actions – and she hadn't had time to calm herself. Was this what her parents felt, every time they flew out on a rescue operation? The responsibility was too much, and she couldn't understand how other people handled it. Did Kagerou really live every day of her life believing it was her responsibility, as a member of the Kantai Project, to save the world?

Maybe Shiranui didn't want any responsibilities, if it felt like this.

Submerged, she looked around. It was dark, and except for her beam of light piercing the waters, she could see nothing. The water was warm, a normal side effect of jumping into oceans during typhoons. There wasn't even any visual signs to tell which direction the surface was in, and she let her instincts bring her up for air.

On the surface, she started rotating, flashing her light at very possible human shape, only to discover time and time again that it was just a wave distorted by the winds. Her panic should have been growing, but it stayed at the same level she'd felt when she saw Liam fall in the water, and instead, it was frustration that welled up inside her. She wanted to swear, to curse the typhoon, but there was no time to give in to her emotions. She visualized Liam's fall, and the currents of the water, and chose the direction she felt most confident in.

A long while passed, which was probably only seconds, but in her situation, seconds were crucial.

Finally, she saw it. Yellow – though it was more a murky, puke yellow than bright – caught her attention. Liam's rain coat, partially submerged in the waters.

She swam towards it, fighting the waves and swimming through the larger ones that threatened to throw her off course. With a stretch of her arms, she grabbed the jacket and pulled it in. Liam wasn't moving. Struggling for a moment, she put the flashlight in her mouth – though it meant she would swallow water with every incoming wave – and used her hands to reorient his body so his head was above the waves.

He needed CPR immediately, but that couldn't be done in the water.

For a terrifying, confusing moment, she looked around and saw nothing but waves.

The boat wasn't in sight.

* * *

 **A/N:** Atmospheric diving suit (ADS) technology at the time was only good for about 300m deep. Technically, if the world's oceans rose by 600m, the Irish Hazel would be upwards of 1000m deep, but I chose not to deal with this inconsistency and stated the Irish Hazel was only 300m deep.

As for winch technology during World War II – detailed information is hard to find so I imagine the winch capabilities in the story are exaggerated. Nylon (mentioned last chapter) was first made/discovered in 1935, only four years before the story. The Tritonia was, indeed, a British ADS of the 1930s. The mines and grenades were also real and used in WW1/WW2. Metal detection (by element) was also a little too advanced for the year. In reality, typhoons do not approach from the west of Japan. Also, BioShock had it right, ADS are terrifying.


	7. Operation Poitin - Part III

The world's oceans held one billion and six hundred million cubic kilometers of water, and it felt like all of it was concentrating around Shiranui, determined to suck her under and drown her.

She estimated the waves were over a story high between trough and peak, and trying to find the horizon was like looking at an optical illusion, constantly changing as her perspective rose and fell with the water. It was so dark that she couldn't tell when she was looking at an approaching wave, or the night sky, and she was thrown around, pulled to the crest of a wave, and then, like a roller coaster, the descent began, and she didn't know when it would stop, or if it would stop.

Staying afloat was much harder than it should have been, and all the while, she was acutely aware of the dying man in her arms.

People were supposed to remain in place if they got lost, but out in the ocean, things moved. The ocean's currents, the waves, and the wind made it impossible to stay still, and she knew the fact well. With each passing second, their ship was probably being blown away by the typhoon.

The _Kasagami_ was certainly not equipped to find and rescue them, so that meant Shiranui would need to do the finding. It was a small mercy when she looked up at the sky, ignoring the rain pelting her face, and realized she could see some stars through a break in the clouds.

Locating what she hoped was a familiar constellation, she turned east and began to swim.

It might have been a hopeless endeavor, her movements awkward and drastically slowed by Liam, but she continued.

The emptiness of the world reminded her of the time when she was ten and had fallen off a ship, left to tread water for hours before she'd been rescued. It had been colder then, and she'd nearly frozen to death, but in a way, it had been easier. All she had had to do was wait, knowing her parents would undoubtedly come save her. This time, she was on a time limit.

A giant wave loomed before her, and if they had been closer to shore, she might have believed it was a tsunami, and before she could react to it, a high pitched blare deafened her and then lights appeared at the top of the wave, at which point she realized she wasn't staring up at a wave – or, at least not completely. In the darkness, it had taken her too long to recognize it, but she was looking up at the massive pontoons of the floating barge, riding the waters high above her, and it was moving towards her much too quickly.

She kicked away to avoid a collision, but it didn't create nearly enough distance, and instead she made the split second decision to turn her back to the ship, bracing herself for the impact with her arms clutched around Liam's chest. Because she didn't want to submerge and disorient herself, and she didn't have any hands to spare, she had made the decision to not protect her head, so when her entire body slammed against the pontoons, her vision flared white and her head felt like it had been cracked open, as if it had hit cement instead of a thin layer of aluminum.

And then the waves tried to suck her under the barge, and she panicked. Her free arm, the one not occupied with Liam, began scrabbling up the side of the pontoons, trying to reach the cement above, despite knowing it was too far. In a feeble effort – probably spurred on by the head injury she'd just received – she banged the pontoon. The metallic echo was drown out by the water, and before she could think to do something practical, such as yelling, a nylon webbing was thrown overboard.

She grabbed onto her and Liam's life line.

For a long second, she contemplated how to make use of the rope to get out of the water. Wrap Liam's body in the webbing and then let them pull him out, while she went around to the _Kasagami_ to climb the netting on the side? That would be too time consuming, and her skull felt like it had been shattered into pieces, none of which she wanted to lose by spending any more time in the water.

Anything involving more swimming was beyond her capabilities, and, in fact, she suspected any method of securing them to the rope was too much.

"Pull me up," she shouted, not knowing who she was talking to.

A moment later, the rope started a lazy ascent.

Water was heavy, and her clothing was soaked. She had lost her boots at some earlier point in time, probably when she dived in, and her raincoat was plastic so it didn't absorb any water, but her socks and pants and panties and shirt and, worst of all, her sweater had collected water like a sponge. The extra weight from her clothing alone wouldn't be enough to cause problems, but she had to hold onto Liam, too. He wasn't a particularly large man, but he still weighed at least seventy kilograms, and his clothing was waterlogged too.

She tried hugging him to her chest, but realized as they began to leave the water that it wouldn't do. She tried grabbing a fistful of his raincoat, but her fingers couldn't get a proper grip. Finally, out of desperation – she had come so far, dropping him now would be no different from dropping the last morsel of her sanity – she flipped his body around, wrapped her fingers around his belt, and held tight. His life was now in the hands of his belt's strength.

She hoped it wouldn't break or come undone.

While in reality, lifting them the two meters to the barge's surface probably only took a handful of seconds, it felt like a painfully slow, drawn-out process.

At times, it looked like they were being _lowered_ into the water, particularly when a large wave rolled up to lap at her feet. It came as a surprise, then, when she felt strong fingers wrap around her arm and pull her over. Liam was dragged up the edge of the barge, but she couldn't bring herself to care. A few scrapes and cuts were nothing compared to his drowning and his body never being recovered.

Having someone to bury helped the grieving process, Shiranui suspected. Her parents' bodies hadn't been recovered, and for over a month she had still believed there was some chance they survived, and were slowly making their way back to Japan so they could scold their only child and tell her to toughen up.

She was dropped on the wet cement.

She felt her fingers letting go of their death grip on Liam's belt as someone pulled him away.

Shiranui hated water. She hated the taste of salt water, when her parents had first thrown her into the ocean and told her to swim, she hated how her skin – normally soft and well taken care of – got all wrinkly when she spent too long in the bath, and she hated how much it weighed when she had to pack fresh water for long trips away from civilization.

She despised how it had kept taking her parents away from morning until sunset, and sometimes in the middle of the night after an alarm went off, and sometimes for days at a time when large disasters happened. She hated how cold it could be and how suffocating it was, and most days she didn't want to go anywhere near it but her parents would expect her to and she wanted nothing more than to appease them.

There was so much water – ninety nine percent of it undrinkable and useless for humans – and she hated every single drop of it, since the day her parents had left for the Gulf of Finland, to rescue crew from the shipwrecked _SS Donetz_ , and never returned. Time and time again, her parents had told her the dangers of water, and that even the most proficient of swimmers could die from a single mistake, so it shouldn't have been a surprise for them to ultimately fall victim to the ocean, but still, she hated it.

Shiranui blinked up at the rain. Water ran down her face, and she decided to pretend they were tears. Only due to the uncomfortable sensation of cement pressing against her shoulder blades did she realize she was laying flat on her back. With her hands, she stretched her fingers and lay her palms flat against the ground, as though she were trying to dig her fingers in to rip out a piece of cement.

Her parents had been amazing people.

She had always thought they had a unique, challenging job, but as a child, she hadn't considered it any more than that. The responsibility they held – to climb out of bed at any minute of the night or drop whatever they were doing during the day at a moment's notice, only to throw themselves headfirst into danger to rescue other people – it was amazing.

It was something Shiranui wouldn't ever be able to do.

She stared at the overcast sky, squinting against the downpour of rain. An umbrella would have been nice. The gap in the clouds she had seen earlier was gone – with no sign it had ever existed in the first place – and the storm was continuing in full force. Maybe it had been because of her swim, but the wind and distant thunder hardly registered with her, and she felt a calmness descend over her whole body, until her strongest sense was that of pain – a dull throbbing on the back of her head.

It occurred to her that she no longer had a flashlight in her mouth. When had she dropped it? Even thinking back to the time she'd spent in the ocean, she couldn't remember much of what happened. How long had she been out there? How long had Liam been without oxygen and unconscious? It all blurred together into a single mess of rain and waves.

The barge's platform was surprisingly well lit, and she tilted her head enough to see a floodlight strapped in next to the crates of alcohol, before quickly looking away. The brightness was too overbearing, and she preferred to concentrate on the pain in her head, instead. She lifted her head an inch and ran her fingers through her scalp. They came away wet, but not red with blood. The discovery that she hadn't cracked her head open came with only minor relief.

If Conor had had time to set up floodlights on the barge, after she had jumped into the ocean, then maybe she and Liam had been overboard for longer than she'd thought. Movement behind her drew her attention. Liam was unconscious, lying several meters away, and Conor was tending to him. Shiranui's duty was over, and she could rest.

A familiar face stepped out of the darkness and into the floodlight's area.

"You're an idiot."

"That's fine," Shiranui said after a moment's contemplation.

Kagerou dropped down next to her, on her hands and knees. "A complete moron."

"I think I've heard those words before."

Kagerou smiled. "Payback."

"Alright."

Kagerou's facade shattered in a second, and sadness clouded her features.

"I thought – I thought you drowned," she whispered, choking on the words.

Shiranui remained silent.

She was conflicted, and in so many ways she didn't know what to think. First of all, Kagerou was crying. If Shiranui had more energy, she would have sat up and hugged the girl and patted her back and then probably broke down into tears herself. But without the energy, she remained still. Perhaps there was also the fear that there was nothing she could do to make the girl feel better, and they were too different for Shiranui to be able to comfort her.

Beyond the simple fact that she was crying, Kagerou was also insanely vulnerable, and Shiranui wished it was in different circumstances. Behind them, she could hear Conor performing CPR. Dying people in the vicinity tended to weaken her desires – which was at least one sign that she was a relatively normal human being – and considering it wasn't impossible for the _Kasagami_ to capsize at any second, trying to seek comfort in indecent behaviour wouldn't be a good idea.

There was also the realization of _whom_ Kagerou was crying for. She had been concerned for Shiranui. Sadness was a strong emotion, and the fact that Kagerou could feel it for her – well, it made Shiranui happy. It might have also been relief from surviving, combined with her adrenaline running out and exhaustion taking over, but she imagined what she felt at the moment was something very similar to the best any recreational drug could offer. Though comparing Kagerou to a drug might actually have been pretty accurate.

And last, but certainly not least, Kagerou, with rain running down her face and tears down her cheeks and lips quivering, was inarguably the most adorable sight Shiranui had ever seen, and part of her wished she could freeze time to stare at the girl forever. But no – sadness was a painful emotion, so if Kagerou was sad, then it should be for only the shortest time possible.

Her brain, too busy, put conversation low on the priority list and she gave a rather thoughtless answer. "Alright."

Even before the word finished leaving her mouth, Kagerou was punching her in the chest.

"Ow."

"You're insane," Kagerou said, punching Shiranui again. Her sorrows were gone so quick, Shiranui wondered if she had imagined them in the first place. The girl was furious. Jaw clenched, she stared hard at Shiranui. The sudden mood swing made Shiranui think she might not have been too far off the mark, telling Kashima that Kagerou's period had started.

"A little," Shiranui admitted, refocusing on the conversation. "But that doesn't mean you need to give me CPR."

Kagerou hit her again, before dropping her head into Shiranui's chest.

Lifting her head a fraction, Shiranui could see the rain running down Kagerou's neck, goosebumps on her skin as the wind blew her hair to cover her face. Shiranui dropped her head back down on the pavement, a little too hard, and winced.

Three flashes in quick succession, like camera flashbulbs being ignited at point blank , illuminated the night sky, so Shiranui could see the outline of every cloud above them. Fifteen seconds later, the loudest rumble she'd ever heard seemed to try to tear the boat apart, and she could practically feel her insides rattle with the sound's force.

By dividing by three, she estimated the lightning to have struck no more than five kilometers away. It was close, considering the sheer area of the ocean, and they would probably be struck again, before they escaped the storm.

She was enjoying every second of their close contact, deciding to pretend Kagerou was now clutching onto her because she was afraid of the thunder, but they had more pressing matters to attend to.

"If you keep acting like this," Shiranui said, "I'm going to have to believe I didn't lie to Kashima and you're really on your period."

Kagerou quickly pulled away, but not before punching her one final time.

"Hit me twenty six more times and you owe me a kiss," Shiranui said, finally sitting up.

Kagerou rolled her eyes, more composed than a moment ago. "Could you please refrain from being making such improper jokes?"

Shiranui stood up, slowly, and turned away. They were jokes, but only because Kagerou never took them seriously.

She approached Conor, who was huddled over Liam, doing chest compressions. She watched for a moment, verifying he was doing it properly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see giant waves crashing against the Kasagami, the water then flooding out the side holes and off the deck. If the ship did sink, she wondered if the barge would be able to stay afloat. It was pretty large, so she thought it might, even if the _Kasagami_ was submerged and trying to pull the barge under, too.

The problem with pontoon barges was that they were prone to capsizing if too much weight was applied to one side, and the Kasagami sinking could do exactly that. It would ultimately be a question of whether or not the water's buoyancy reduced the boat's weight enough to prevent it from upsetting the barge's delicate balance. That being said, if the Kasagami did sink, they would have much greater problems. There was no fresh water on the barge, so they would die of dehydration in a matter of days.

Captain Conor was a fool. Whatever his plan had been, it was his responsibility to keep his crew alive.

Shiranui felt sick as she watched him try to resuscitate Liam. Conor was trying, but the prognosis wasn't good. How long has it been, she wondered?

"I brought back a dead man," Shiranui whispered, the wind probably carrying away her words before anyone could hear them.

* * *

Even though Shiranui had given up hope, Conor didn't seem willing to. The waves continued trying their best to flood them, and the winds their best to drag them off the concrete and into the waters below, but nobody seemed to care. All the attention was on Liam. With Shiranui and Kagerou silently observing, Conor continued the chest compressions, pausing every once in awhile to perform mouth-to-mouth. He was showing no signs of exhaustion despite the physically demanding task.

Yet the hardest part would be deciding when to stop, because that meant accepting Liam's death. It might have already been a forgone conclusion, but the minuscule chance of resuscitating him made giving up all the more difficult. It went twofold for the captain of the ship, whom the responsibility fell on for keeping the crew safe and seeing everyone return to shore.

Eventually, Shiranui couldn't watch any longer. She returned to the _Kasagami_. The barge was well lit, and the inside of the cabin had lights, but the jump over to the fireboat and navigating the stern was done in relative darkness. Entering the cabin with only a single backwards glance at the Abyssal's crate, she felt momentarily thankful for the shelter from the rain. It had been enough for one day, though she knew there would be much more still to come.

Operation Poitin had turned into chaos, so when she didn't see Hugh at the winch boxes or the control panel, she wasn't surprised, but rather she felt a wave of defeat. Would they even manage to return at all?

In the corner of the cabin, she noticed something that she hadn't before. A trapdoor, wide open. It had been hidden by an old, reddish-brown carpet, which was now pushed aside. She approached, dropping to her hands and knees to peer down.

In the bilge, a bucket in hand, Hugh looked up at her. His forehead was usually wrinkly, but it was now furrowed even further as he stared up at her in consternation.

"We're taking on water," he said, standing up to his waist in ocean water.

As if to accentuate his point, he filled the bucket up. It made no dent in lowering the water level, and the water rushed back and forth in the bilge, creating waves in its own microcosm of the ocean.

Shiranui almost laughed.

Hugh was old enough to be her grandfather, and he was standing in the flooding bilge of a fireboat out in the middle of the ocean, caught in a freakish love child between a typhoon and a thunderstorm, and he was trying to bucket out the water so they wouldn't all become stranded on a barge in the middle of the damned ocean, waiting to die of dehydration.

The bucket of water in his hands was probably too heavy for him to even climb up the ladder with, and by the time he would empty it, another three buckets of water would have flooded into the bilge. At the very least, he still had the three rolls of duct tape wrapped around his arm. Maybe they could tape the entire boat water-tight.

"Yes," Shiranui said. "It seems like we are taking on water. Bilge pump?"

"The _Kasagami_ lacks one."

"You call for help?" she said, sparing a glance towards the radio. They were effectively in the process of sinking, and the realization didn't disturb the calm that had descended on her since she'd been pulled out of the ocean.

"Tried," he said. His face looked tired.

"And they're not coming?"

"Long distance radio's outgoing is broken."

"Back up one?" she said without missing a beat.

"We don't have a backup long range. Only short range. I tried it, no response."

"Flares?"

"Waterlogged, no good."

"Damn."

The old man sighed. "If only."

Shiranui's acceptance of the fireboat had been, by proxy, acceptance of disaster. She hadn't complained about the lack of supplies and she hadn't thought to check the flares were properly stored or to look for a backup radio – probably because she knew she wouldn't find one yet she had no choice in the matter of boarding the _Kasagami_. Years and years of her parents drilling safety into her, and she let it all go out the window when the most important person to her was on the same boat. She had endangered Kagerou because of a lapse in judgement.

The cabin door opened, and she watched as Conor carried the body in. He opened a storage compartment, pulled out a tarp, and began wrapping Liam's body. Kagerou entered a second later, and shut the door, silencing the wind's shrill screams.

Shiranui didn't know how she should feel.

Could she have done something differently? She could have ordered everyone on the barge tie themselves to a single rope, so if one fell off, the others would be able to keep them from plunging into the ocean, like ice climbers did under threat of chasms hidden beneath the snow. She might have positioned herself on the outside of the group, letting Liam and Kagerou work towards the center, thus keeping them away from the winch's load and the water. Maybe if she acted a little faster – been a little quicker to forget Kagerou and jump in the water – Liam might have stood a chance.

Shiranui wasn't a fast swimmer. Even Kagerou had beaten her in a short distance race, albeit with a head start. Though Shiranui had endurance, speed was the required element to get Liam out of the water in time. If she had stopped to think rationally for a moment, she might have realized the time spent on grabbing a rope would be time saved when it came to returning to the ship, as someone could have reeled them back in. Bad decisions on her part had cost Liam his life.

She hadn't known him for more than a few hours, but he hadn't been a bad person. He couldn't have been, if he had saved Kagerou at the cost of his own life. He was just an innocent kid looking for work. They had even played poker together, while waiting for Hugh to fix the winch, and it seemed silly, now, that she had been worried about him making a move on Kagerou. It was such an immature, silly reason to dislike him.

Shiranui had played a part in the events leading up to his death, and it felt like she just undid some of the work her parents had spent their lives doing.

Conor set the body aside, his eyes lifeless as he looked around the room. "Hugh?"

"We're flooding, down here!" Hugh shouted up from the bilge.

Conor looked to Shiranui, who confirmed the news with a nod.

Before he could issue any commands, a static noise erupted from the radio. He rushed forward, tuning the dials. Unless Hugh had been lying to her, they could still receive transmissions, just not send them. They caught a voice from the radio for a second before it returned to static. It was female, which surprised her. Another five seconds later, Conor found it again, and locked onto the frequency.

"Sound off on new fox mike, in order."

"Ayanami, clean."

"Shikinami, clean."

"Ise, red."

The radio fell silent.

"Hyuuga, come in."

"Vampire incoming!"

"Ayanami, what do you see?"

"Hit, I'm hit!"

"Abort, abort! We're pulling back. Aya, Shiki, escort Ise."

"What about Hyuuga?"

"You have your commands."

"Bandit incoming!"

"Roger, I have lock... Bird away!"

"Abby, I see another Abby!"

"Abort, I said, goddammit, abort!"

Conor flicked the switch, silencing the radio.

Abyssals were attacking.

Nobody spoke.

The boat rocked in the typhoon, and everyone reached out to grab something to stabilize themselves. An ominous creak ran through the cabin, as though the ship were from the medieval age and made of wood, threatening to be torn asunder by the storm's forces.

Shiranui brought her arms together, holding them close to her body. After a moment's consideration, she slipped off her rain jacket, then struggle for a minute with her wet sweater – Kagerou approaching silently to hold her shirt down so they didn't cling together as she pulled her sweater over her head. She dropped the wet clothing. It landed with an audible splash on the cabin floor, which was already well watered from the door being opened and closed so many times and boots walking through, carrying puddles of water with them.

She had no spare clothing to wear, and the wetness was bothering her – especially her panties, where they rubbed against her skin with every step. It was a feeble complaint, however. A rash from wearing wet cloth was trivial compared to their other problems, like the sudden possibility of being hunted down by Abyssals. They were a civilian ship, so she held no doubts about how they would fair if the enemy found them.

"We're pulling you up," Conor spoke. It took a second to realize he was speaking to Ian through the radio.

He waited a few seconds, but no response was forthcoming.

"Hugh, get up here and work on the radio," he shouted, though he managed to sound completely emotionless while doing so.  
"But we aren't done here," Hugh protested from down in the bilge, "and besides, the water-"

"Kagerou, left winch box. Bring Ian up. Shiranui, with me."

Conor stepped outside, and Shiranui joined him in the storm a moment later.

"Are we going to abandon the _Kasagami_?" she asked.

He shook his head, an action she almost missed in the darkness. "We're going to lighten the ship, keep her keel riding as high as possible in the water. I'm going back inside to operate the salvage winch. I'll bring the hook over here, and you secure a crate to it. Make sure to get the tether properly secured at the four joints on the crate. I'll bring it over the ocean, drop the load, and bring the winch back. I want you to be ready for the next box immediately."

They were dropping the explosives and Abyssal into the ocean?

"What's in the boxes?" she said, making sure to show concern at the prospect of losing supplies.

"It's just junk. Some alcohol, extra potable water, a non-atmospheric diving suit – all heavy and expendable. We get rid of the Tritonia's box, too. Now, let's get to work."

"No."

A wave splashed up on deck, and she paused to wipe the droplets off her face. She didn't want the responsibility. She didn't want to be out in the typhoon, fighting for survival. She wasn't her mother, nor her father. But maybe, just a little, she was channeling her mother as she spoke.

"No," she repeated. "Inside, now."

He hesitated, and she took the opportunity to usher him inside. Hugh was in the process of using a screwdriver to open one of the transmission boxes, and Kagerou was at the winch controls. Neither of them noticed her and Conor re entering the cabin. Bringing her fingers to her lips, Shiranui let out a shrill whistle, drawing their attention.

"Listen up! Radio's lowest priority, we don't know if we can fix it, and we don't know how long it will take. Even if it does get fixed, help is still hours away and we risk alerting the Abyssals to our location. Forget the radio. We need to get out of here before the Abyssals find us, which means we need the bilge emptied and the engines running. Hugh, grab a raincoat and go outside. I want you on the other side of this window," she said, pointing to the window next to the trapdoor leading down to the bilge. "Kagerou, leave the winch controls to me and get to the trapdoor – open the window as wide as possible while you're at it. Conor, get down to the bilge and start passing water up to Kagerou. She'll pass through the window to Hugh, who'll empty it out into the ocean. As soon as you think it's low enough to start the engines again, do it. I'll handle the salvage winch, tossing our extra weight, and bringing Ian up."

She expected resistance. She expected Conor to challenge her, but he didn't. It might have been Liam's death, or it might have been something else, but he shuffled past Hugh and down into the bilge. The captain having obeyed her, no one else hesitated. To them, it would seem like her and Conor had stepped outside for a moment, where he had passed control of the ship to her.

Shiranui didn't breathe a sigh of relief. What she had just done wasn't right. The captain of the ship was supposed to be god, from the second she boarded until the second she finally stepped onto dry land.

When Hugh left the cabin, Shiranui realized she needed to work quickly. She retrieved the abandoned screwdriver next to the radio, and jammed it into the winch box responsible for bringing Ian up. Once satisfied that the screwdriver was secure and lodged against the pay-in button, pressing it, she turned her attention to the other winch.

Thankfully, the salvage winch was operating properly, even after the temporary loss of control from the lightning strike earlier.

Her work involved a lot of running, moving between the winch's control panel indoors and hooking up the crates outside, and, knowing the true contents of the crates, she found herself lowering them into the water a tad slower and more carefully than they had time for. Subconsciously, she knew she was saving the wide crate for last.

* * *

She stepped outside one last time, staring at the final crate. Every second counted – she should have hurried to relieve Conor. He had been lifting buckets of water out of the bilge for half an hour. While it may not seem like much, in order for the bucket to reach Kagerou he would need to be positioned halfway up the ladder, one hand holding onto a rung while the other filled the bucket and lifted it up. It would be a tiring process.

Even so, it was impossible to hook the crate up and drop it into the ocean without at least saying something.

Shiranui pried the box open for the second time that day. Even knowing what to expect, she recoiled.

Beads of water clung to alabaster skin – pure white, like snow – and almost with a translucent quality to it. Her appendages – arms, legs, even fingers – were all human-like. If not for the skin, and the unnatural depth to her saturated, red eyes, Shiranui could have mistaken her for human. She was small, perhaps not by human standards, but Shiranui had seen pictures of Abyssals larger than her. Shiranui penned her as the equivalent of a young adult, around twenty four or twenty five.

A strip of duct tape covered her mouth, preventing her from making a sound, though even if it hadn't been in place, Shiranui wasn't entirely sure if the Abyssal would say anything. Her eyes weren't angry, nor did they show any other emotion Shiranui was familiar with. Did Abyssals experience emotions similar to humans, and did they openly display them, like humans did? The thought helped reinforce the fact that their prisoner was an alien.

The Abyssal was naked. Her arms and feet were handcuffed, with four additional restraints tying her to metal hooks installed into the corners of the crate. She was laying atop a bed of hair - _her_ hair, white like her skin, though the ends were streaked darker gray. It amazed Shiranui. While there were students at Kantai Academy with long white hair, the Abyssal's reached nearly to her feet, straight yet thick enough to provide what might have been a moderately comfortable surface to lay splayed out on. Her eyelashes were also white, which made the Abyssal look all the more exotic.

One line of duct tape had been drawn across her chest to hide her nipples, and several layers on her lower body, to hide her privates. It had obviously been Hugh's doing, and it bothered Shiranui. Why not just leave the Abyssal naked, or, better yet, give her something to wear?

Their eyes met, and Shiranui shivered.

As a student of Kantai Academy, she was being trained for war against the Abyssals. There was every expectation of her to use the crowbar and end it, but even the thought of it sickened her. She was no murderer. It would feel wrong, like she were undoing all the lives her parents had saved, if she were to kill the defenseless Abyssal in front of her in cold blood. Even with a gun, she suspected, she wouldn't be able to do it. It wasn't a matter of the crowbar being too personal, or too messy.

The Abyssal moved her hands a few centimeters before the restraints pulled tight. The hands gave up, dropping back down to the bottom of the crate.

"I – I don't really know what to say," Shiranui whispered, making sure to speak firmly so her words weren't lost in the storm. "I don't think apologizing would be appropriate, here. We're at war. I don't know how you got into this situation – I'm really confused and – and scared, and if you're anything like us, then you probably are too, but I don't think I'm at fault here. I didn't have anything to do with your capture."

What was she saying? Trying to deny involvement and claim innocence, in case the Abyssal came after her later with a vengeance? It sounded pathetic, but Shiranui didn't care.

"Not to mention," she added with a nervous laugh, "I'd feel like a damned fool, saying sorry to you when you'd probably slit my throat in a second if it weren't for your restraints."

The Abyssal blinked when she said 'damn'. There was no question the Abyssal understood her, but it seemed odd she'd reacted to the foul language. Shiranui fell into silence again, struggling to find words.

"You're smart," Shiranui said. "I don't really think that's up for debate. You've come to understand half the world's languages in a matter of years, and you're winning against us. But I still don't think you completely understand us. You see, I don't care about you, or any of your friends. I don't care about this war, because I've got a different goal in mind. All of us do, so even if the war means everything to you, for us, it's just an obstacle. And humans are _damn_ persistent. We'll keep bashing our heads against a wall until it falls, if there's something we want on the other side. So you may be winning now, but eventually something is going to give, and we're going to make leeway. We're mad, and we're determined, and we want to move on, no matter our losses.

"In the end, I guess all I can say is that I wish it didn't come to this. I really wish none of this happened. Whether you're responsible for the Flooding, or – or whether you stopped it, saving us all – I just wish none of it happened."

Something unknown compelled her – perhaps it was empathy, because the Abyssal looked so human – but Shiranui reached out and wiped away the beads of water on the Abyssal's forehead. Maybe she had expected it to feel slimy, like a fish, or hard and unyielding, as it would need to be to collaborate with reports of their durability, but it felt no different from her own skin. That, in itself, was scary. Shiranui didn't want them to be similar. The aliens shouldn't have been so easy to relate to.

She quickly stood up, and the Abyssal's eyes narrowed. For a moment, Shiranui thought she would break the restraints and attack, but nothing happened. The Abyssal didn't even attempt to move. Shiranui began pulling the lid back over the crate.

"All that being said, I think you'll understand when I say this... I genuinely hope I never see you again. Bye."

Once she verified the lid was properly closed and secured, she stepped inside the cabin. The rest of the crew was still at work, unaware of the conversation that had been held only a few steps outside the door. Shiranui approached the winch controls.

The Abyssal would almost certainly survive. She might be bored, or even lonely, at the bottom of the ocean – if she was even capable of those emotions – but she wouldn't die. No amount of water pressure would harm an Abyssal. They could drink, apparently, though they didn't need to. No one had ever seen an Abyssal consume food before, so she wouldn't starve either. As for oxygen, well, they had no gills on their body, but through some unknown biological magic, they could breath just fine in water. The Asheville government had tested the Abyssals in many ways, and when left to their own devices, they wouldn't drown or starve or anything of the sort.

Eventually, another Abyssal would come along and rescue her, or maybe the salt water would rust the restraints and she'd break free. Shiranui could only hope it would happen after the conclusion of the war, some time in the far future. She wouldn't forgive herself if the same Abyssal she had had the opportunity to kill showed up again and harmed anyone she knew.

Winch arm and payload over the ocean, she pressed the release button. The crate fell, making a splash in the water that a wave quickly swallowed up.

Hugh stopped and turned to watch, but something else drew their attention.

The Tritonia's winch finally finished reeling up the full length of the oxygen cord and tether. Nothing was on the end.

No Tritonia in sight. Instead, the ropes dangled uselessly over the ocean, their ends severed.

Shiranui's mind short circuited.

At the same time, a woman over the radio spoke.

"Mayday, mayday, mayday."

* * *

 **A/N:** CPR was much different in the 1940s than it is today (both in methodology and understood effectiveness – the US military didn't start using mouth-to-mouth until 1957), and thus mention of its method may be outdated (now go learn the proper method!).


	8. Operation Poitin - Part IV

"Mayday, mayday, mayday."

 _M'aider._

Help me.

She had heard the words a thousand times before, yet they still shook her.

"All stations, all stations, all stations. This is Battleship Hyuuga, requesting immediate rescue. My VHF is bent and I'm going under. My coordinates are thirty eight degrees, fifty two minutes, and six point six seconds North by one hundred and thirty seven degrees, forty minutes, and thirty five point eight seconds East. Mayday, mayday, mayday."

By now, Kagerou noticed her and Hugh staring out the window, at the Tritonia's winch. She gasped, leaning out the window as if expecting to find Ian on the aft, climbing out of the Tritonia.

Meanwhile, on the radio, Hyuuga repeated the message a second time, and just as Shiranui thought it was going to start for a third time, like an announcement stuck in a perpetual loop, she said something different.

"Please – someone. Help me. I don't want to die out here." The radio crackled. The sound was distorted, but she was crying. "If anyone's listening, I – I need you to pass on a message for me. My cousin is a student at Kantai Academy – her name is Hajikano Hiryuu, she's a second year student – tell her, tell her she was right, and I'm sorry. I guess I've made one too many mistakes. Tell Hiryuu I'm sorry, and that she has to keep living."

"Hugh," Shiranui heard herself shout. "Get in the cabin."

They had lost enough people already. An old man out in a typhoon was only asking for more deaths. It had been a stupid decision on her part to send him out in the first place. She clearly wasn't fit to be a captain. Decisions which other people's lives depended on were better suited for smarter, more responsible people. Those less selfish than herself, at the very least.

* * *

The engines were running again, enough water drained out of the bilge, and the four of them sat at the table. The captain didn't take the news well. When he heard Ian's oxygen cord hard been cut, he had fallen silent and his haggard face seemed to age five years.

"But he could still be alive down there, if we get him another oxygen line..." Kagerou said.

Hugh shook his head, face stone cold. "The Tritonia doesn't have a local oxygen supply. There's no way he could survive."

Abyssals, Shiranui wondered? No, if it was them then they would have simply sunk the ship, rather than cut the cords. Something else had happened down there. Another thought occurred to her. If the IJN was fighting the Abyssals in a typhoon, wasn't it possible that the Abyssals were the _cause_ of the typhoon? They already had quasi magical abilities to summon deadly weaponry and walk on water, so it wasn't hard to believe they had created a typhoon to shield their activities.

The radio started up again, and Hyuuga valiantly continued her calls for help.

"Why isn't anyone helping her?" Shiranui finally asked.

Hugh took a moment to answer her. She caught him giving a sidelong glance towards Conor. "That was from the short range radio. Her VHF is broken so she can't call for help, not in a way anyone can hear, at least."

"We can hear her." Kagerou leaned forward.

"Nothing we can do, we're barely staying afloat. Not equipped for rescue, and we probably don't have enough fuel. Too many things could go wrong. It could be a trap, for all we know. The Abyssals are out there somewhere, and they might be lying in ambush, waiting for someone to try to help."

"Conor," Shiranui said.

She was not her mother, nor her father. She couldn't do it. Thankfully, Conor was the captain. It wasn't her responsibility to make decisions.

He didn't react to his name, and instead appeared to be completely fixated on a knot in the wooden table.

Ian had said they had known each other for six years, so it was possible Conor was in shock. She looked around the table. Hugh was experienced, and he had already voiced his opinion. If she didn't act, and the command slipped from Conor to Hugh, they would be heading back to port immediately.

Shiranui wasn't good at these sorts of things. She had to weigh her choices, and neither felt like the right one to make. On one hand, she could go against Hugh and order they rescue Hyuuga. There was already precedence. She had successfully executed her plan to restart the engines and keep the Kasagami afloat. The probability of resistance from Conor was basically nonexistent.

Alternatively, they could go straight back to port. The risk of being caught by Abyssals was minimal, and Kagerou would be safer-

 _Shit._

She caught Kagerou's look. The girl's eyes shone with determination, her jaw clenched, and her fists rested tightly on the table. There was no question what she wanted to do. They were, after all, students of Kantai Academy. Kagerou would probably say something about respect, responsibility, and reputation if Shiranui waited any longer.

"We're going to rescue her," Shiranui said, standing up.

Again, she reminded herself she was not her parents. This was for Kagerou.

Conor hadn't flinched, or acknowledged her words in the slightest.

"And of fuel?" Hugh said, looking deep in thought, but altogether surprised.

"She said her battleship was sinking. We just need to pick her out of the ocean, not necessarily make it back to the docks. The IJN will come back in the morning, or even as soon as the typhoon is over and they have reinforcements. We just need to keep everyone above water until then. You'll work on fixing the radio in the meantime." She paused, trying to find better words, but failed. "What's with Conor?"

Hugh shook his head. "He just lost his best friend. You would be the same way if it happened to you."

Drowning was a bad way to die, but Shiranui couldn't even begin to imagine the horrors Ian must have felt. One moment, he would be moving a crate out of the ship, in preparation to guide the winch rope to it, and the next, he'd be struggling to breathe. The oxygen line and tether would probably drift down past the atmospheric suit's glass window, and he would see it and realize what had happened.

So deep underwater, there was no chance for survival. When most people drowned, they at least had free movement of their body and could struggle towards the surface. He would be trapped in the Tritonia, holding perhaps one last breath of air as his mind raced, searching for an escape that wouldn't come. He'd struggle against his metal prison, but there was nowhere to go.

As far as deaths went, it was terrifying. Alone and in the darkness, with no hope.

Shiranui's fingers were tracing lines across the map. When a hand rested on her shoulder, she realized she had been doing it for several minutes, not accomplishing anything. She stared at the page.

"Coordinates," she mumbled. "What were they again?"

Kagerou recited them, and Shiranui placed two fingers on the page, marking their approximate location and Hyuuga's coordinates.

"Thirty kilometers," Kagerou said. "That's far."

It wasn't too far for the short range radio.

Shiranui folded the map in half and pushed it aside. "Then we'd better get going."

* * *

The Kantai Project became popular within the government because of the way it had been proposed.

In 1938, the Japanese participated in their first major offensive against the Abyssals, at the Battle of Taipei. Due to its proximity to the archipelago, they were afraid the Abyssals would use Taiwan as a staging grounds for further attacks, and thus the island could not be surrendered without a fight. In a surprising display of diplomacy – which had since became the standard, as nations joined forces to defeat the invaders – the operation turned into a joint effort between the Japanese, Chinese, and the Russians.

Beyond being used as a forward base to attack the Japanese, everyone recognized the island's strategic importance. Its infrastructure was modern and high quality, built and maintained by the Taiwanese despite the war developing around them. There were valuable refueling depots for both ships and planes, early warning systems for Abyssal attacks from the rest of Asia, functioning industrial plants, and a communication network whose loss would silence navigation attempts by ships in the region.

Unfortunately, the Battle of Taipei ended in disaster.

The death of the commander-in-chief of the Imperial Japanese Navy, alongside the loss of countless of men, destroyers, cruisers, battleships, and auxiliary boats, drove the Japanese to question their naval strategies. Both the Russians and the Chinese suffered similar losses, but the Japanese realized another similar battle would permanently cripple their population, and the war industry would no longer be sustainable.

The commander-in-chief had greatly opposed Kantai Kessen – the naval doctrine which demanded a prominence of battleships and high caliber weaponry to overwhelm opponents – and following his death, confusion descended upon the officers. Kantai Kessen had failed them in a spectacular way, and another loss would mean the nation's defeat. During this time of desperation, a man stepped forward with such confidence that nobody could fail to heed his words.

The life of every Japanese was critical, he said, and staffing ships with hundreds of sailors was no longer feasible. He then introduced Professor Hina Inoue, an expert in robotics at Nomi University. A plan was outlined, wherein massive ships would be built with state-of-the-art technology which could be sailed by a single soldier. His audience of high ranking officers and important men, including the emperor of Japan, listened intently as he made the comparison of Abyssals to the Sirens of Greek mythology – a statement no man who'd fought them could dispute. As such, because women were immune to Sirens and wouldn't hesitate during decisive moments, he claimed only woman should pilot these new ships.

Coincidentally, _young_ woman were the bane of Abyssal telepathy.

"We are proud", he said of the men before him, "but we are also wise. In war, any and every advantage should be exploited, whenever possible. Therefore, all girls across the nation should be tested in search of those with the necessary attributes to sail a war ship and fight against the Abyssals."

Everyone knew that if a woman were in the army or navy, she was a nurse or secretary, but the argument had been so cleanly put, in the chaos of war, that silence pervaded the room. No counter-argument put forth, the men realized that if they wanted the empire to survive, it would need to be placed in the hands of their children.

Thus, the Kantai Project was created.

* * *

The rain had let up a little, but it was still enough that they needed to keep a close eye on the bilge.

They were too late to see the battleship in its full glory. Listing on its side, Hyuuga's ship was two thirds submerged and the surface area above water was still thrice the size of the _Kasagami_. Shiranui couldn't estimate the rate at which it was sinking, but she watched the radio masts poking out of the ocean and knew it was too late.

The moon's light didn't offer much visibility, but she nonetheless found herself scanning the horizons every other minute, squinting against the darkness and trying to make out any Abyssals. In reality, their enemy didn't need to be anywhere close to attack, but it helped keep her mind occupied.

The radio had been silent for the past half hour. They had tried hailing Hyuuga multiple times, but never received a response, and they didn't know if it was their own equipment to blame, or if there was a more sinister reason behind the silence.

Once they were close to the sinking ship, Shiranui jumped over to the barge. She struggled to move the floodlights to the edge, swearing a couple times when they banged against her shoeless toes, but before she could give up, Kagerou arrived by her side to help.

When Shiranui flicked on the power switch to the floodlights – half expecting the generator to fail and the lights to flicker and die – they saw a girl waving at them. She was on the massive, slanted slab of metal in the water, awkwardly clutching the railings that were jutting out at an oblique angle. Waves lapped at her feet, but she didn't seem harmed and wasn't panicking.

"She's alive," Kagerou shouted with relief, but her words were overwhelmed by the _Kasagami's_ horn resounding. She winced, and rubbed her ears. "But how do we get her onto the ship?"

Shiranui took a step away from the water and looked around. It was a reasonable question; they couldn't bring the _Kasagami_ too close, or they risked hitting the battleship's hull, hidden beneath the water's surface, and gashing a hole in the _Kasagami_. Then the rescue would become even more difficult, and they'd be immobile and stuck on the barge afterwards.

They had no lifeboats to inflate – a collective result of re-purposing the ship for a salvage operation, and then later throwing everything overboard to make the ship lighter – and were overall very light on supplies. One thing they had was lots of rope.

"She can swim to the salvage winch?" Shiranui said.

"The waves might be too strong."

The solution ended up being relatively simple. Since it was too dangerous to make Hyuuga swim the remaining distance to any thrown rope, they dropped the rope overboard with almost a hundred meters of slack, and then circled the _Kasagami_ around the sinking battleship, letting the rope trailing behind catch on the battleship.

The rain had become a light drizzle, and the worst of the typhoon had passed as they watched Hyuuga use the rope to pull herself towards the ship.

Shiranui and Kagerou were the only ones on the barge to greet Hyuuga when she arrived. Conor was at the helm in a comatose state, and Hugh was still working on fixing the radio. It was a rather unceremonious event, the girl clutching the rope until she was over solid ground, and then letting go, landing on her feet, losing balance, and ending up on the ground. She pulled herself back up surprisingly quickly, and stared unflinchingly against the floodlights, giving Shiranui the opportunity to see her clearly.

Her first assumption – that Hyuuga had been uninjured – was wrong. The girl wore surprisingly light clothing for fighting in a typhoon and controlling a battleship, and at her left elbow, a large gash in her long sleeved shirt revealed an injury. Blood seeped through the sleeve, all the way to her hand, which was inked with red. She seemed unconcerned about the gash on her arm, as she stared, confused, at the two girls.

"I – thank you," she said, words softer than her expression might have indicated. "I thought I was going to die, back there."

Shiranui stepped aside, and Kagerou took the hint. "You're welcome," she said.

"You aren't with the navy," Hyuuga stated, looking around. "If you don't mind me asking, who exactly are you?"

"Actually, we _are_ with the navy. My name is Chisaka Kagerou, and this is-"

"Nobori Shiranui," Shiranui interjected with a wave of her hand, somehow lapsing into a more European introduction while Kagerou gave a small bow.

"We're members of the Kantai Project," Kagerou added, attempting to clear Hyuuga's confusion.

Hyuuga eyed them critically. "I'm sure you've heard from the radio, but I am Lieutenant-Commander Hajikano Hyuuga of the Imperial Japanese Navy." She wiped at her forehead, unintentionally smearing a line of blood along it. She looked out to see, where her ship was no longer visible. "Retired now, I suppose."

"Shall we move inside, so you can dry off and meet the rest of the crew?" Kagerou said.

* * *

The typhoon finally passed and the waves settled. Stepping outside, Shiranui breathed a sigh of relief into the night air. It was warm out, but a cold wake would soon follow – the result of being in the aftermath of a typhoon. She pulled her raincoat off, dropping it aside. Inside, Hyuuga was sleeping on Kagerou's lap. She felt a little jealous, but decided circumstances warranted allowing it.

Crossing onto the barge, she sat at its stern and watched the waves.

She had the notion that, maybe, in her current circumstances, she might realize something she hadn't before. It took her a moment to focus, but she was able to push aside all her thoughts on the Abyssals and Operation Poitin.

There were only a few known facts about the mystery.

Due to its salinity – sodium and chloride – sea water was denser than freshwater. In 1922, the year she had been born, a research paper had been published which indicated it was two point five percent heavier, but now, after the ocean's sea level had rose six hundred meters, it was only two percent more dense. This indicated that the added water had a different composition than what was already in the oceans. Namely, less sodium and chloride.

It wasn't only the composition that affected density, however. Temperature was a factor, and the sea surface temperature, SST, had increased by zero point four degrees, which most scientists agreed was within the bounds of natural fluctuation. Data collection of sea temperatures started back in the 1880s, and Shiranui had seen the graphs, which indicated an upwards trend, and had come to the same conclusion. At least for now, she would need to ignore local variations and temperature.

She turned her attention back to oxygen. Seawater weighing in at two percent heavier than fresh water meant it was approximately one point zero two kilograms per litre. Oxygen was, by mass, eighty-five percent of it. Converting from litres to cubic meters meant multiplying by a thousand. She knew, by heart, that the number would be eight hundred and sixty seven kilograms per cubic meter. Multiplying by three hundred and ten quadrillion cubic meters gave the result of two hundred and sixty five quintillion kilograms of oxygen. Of course, working with such a large number was useless, and she would need to convert to moles-

A puff of hot air on her ear sent a shiver through her body, and the numbers in her head fall apart. She leaned forward to escape the sensation, gripping the edge of the barge and nearly falling into the ocean.

"I knew it," Kagerou said. "Your ears are really sensitive, aren't they?"

"Hi," Shiranui said, rubbing her ear and trying to hide her momentary discomposure.

"You reacted the same way on Friday."

 _Friday._

She still hadn't apologized for dragging Kagerou out into the ocean. Had she waited too long, and now an apology would be awkward?

"What are you doing?" Kagerou asked when she didn't say anything. "Did – did you want to be left alone?"

"No, it's fine. I like your company."

"Oh." Kagerou looked away.

"Do you think wormholes exist?"

"You mean, some kind of portal connecting two points in space?"

"Or time."

Kagerou didn't respond immediately, but Shiranui was content to watch the waves in silence.

"Seems far-fetched," Kagerou finally said.

She sounded forlorn, and Shiranui realized she might be thinking of the past.

"It's silly," Shiranui said, "but I hope they do exist. It would explain a lot of things. Never mind that, though. How are Conor and Hyuuga doing?"

Kagerou blinked a few times and cleared her throat. "It was suffocatingly quiet in there. Hyuuga's still sleeping, and the captain, well, he doesn't seem any better."

"Sit?" Shiranui said, motioning beside her.

"Promise not to push me off?"

"Why would I do something like that?"

"Because you've already pushed me into the ocean once."

"That was more of a pull," Shiranui said, patting the cement beside her while smiling up at Kagerou.

"Semantics," Kagerou said, but she still sat down.

It was probably Shiranui's imagination, but Kagerou didn't leave as much space between them as she might have expected.

"Thanks for rescuing Hyuuga," Kagerou said.

"Wasn't my decision."

Kagerou punched her lightly on the shoulder. "Sure seemed like it."

"It wasn't my decision," Shiranui reiterated. "Articles twelve and eighteen of the Second Geneva Convention."

"What?"

Geneva, Switzerland was probably one of the luckiest cities in the world. It should have been flooded years ago, submerged in over two hundred meters of water, but because of the three treaties previously made there – the first dating back to 1864 – and the nearby Lake Geneva, a valuable source of fresh water, all of Europe decided to work together to save the city. Admittedly, another reason for saving the city was because it was far enough inland and sufficiently elevated so that the task didn't seem impossible, as compared to Prague or Paris.

In a massive feat of engineering, four dams were created to block water that was encroaching on the city and lake from the four main highways leading in and out. Since then, Geneva acted as a magnet to everyone in Europe who'd been displaced by water, and it grew to become one of the world's five largest cities. It was, however, in a precarious state. If any of the dams broke, a tidal wave would wash away the city in a heartbeat.

"Help people at sea, the convention says. And I think there's another article, in a different convention for assistance and salvage at sea, about helping shipwrecked people, too. Japan is party to both conventions. Besides, it was what you wanted."

Kagerou turned her head out to sea. "What I wanted? I don't think that should matter. I feel like I've been nothing but a bother, this entire mission."

"No." Shiranui shook her head, looking at the pile of crates they had salvaged from the _Irish Hazel_. "You've been invaluable. It may not be the most noble of work, but that doesn't change the fact that you're a hard worker."

"The most noble of work... what would that be? Fighting the Abyssals?"

"Maybe it depends on the person, but I don't think that's it. Killing people isn't noble."

"They aren't humans."

"Have you seen one before?"

"No," Kagerou admitted. "Aside from in pictures."

"They're a lot like us. And I think I should have phrased it differently. Killing isn't noble. Whether it's human, cat, dog, alien, whatever."

"So you're saying Kantai Academy is a school of ignoble people?"

Shiranui nodded after a moment's contemplation. She hadn't thought of it like that before, but they were all attending the academy to learn how to kill effectively and efficiently. Once the war was over, if they won, the Kantai Project would have no reason to exist, and they would just be a bunch of killers, unfit to reintegrate into society. She didn't like the idea, but that was what war made. Monsters.

"I don't agree with that."

She spared a glance towards Kagerou. The girl's hair was still wet, clinging to her neck and shoulders, but the air was warm enough that there wasn't a threat of developing a cold. Behind her, the moon shone on the water's surface. It was a full moon, but the skies had been too cloudy to notice before. The clouds had cleared away properly now, the typhoon gone and the starry sky visible.

"Um – could you quit staring?"

"Sorry," Shiranui said, quickly looking away. She had almost nodded off. It was some time past midnight. "Say, were you upset when you learned they had classified you as Destroyer?"

Kagerou hummed thoughtfully. "No. No reason to be, is there?"

"Destroyers aren't important. This war is going to be fought by aircraft and radar. And I'm sure you know that better than I do."

"So you're upset, then, being a Destroyer? You wish you were given command of a carrier?"

Shiranui nodded, though she didn't entirely mean it. Water was her priority, not war. To her, the only good thing about a carrier was that they were much harder to sink.

Kagerou stifled a yawn. "I think you make a pretty good captain. You might be leading patrols, one day in the near future."

The compliment made her happy, but it wasn't the future Shiranui wanted. "Nah. Destroyer don't lead. We aren't taking a single leadership course."

Again, Kagerou yawned, but this time she looked away, trying to hide the fact.

"Besides, it's not a responsibility I want."

"You kept the _Kasagami_ afloat. Isn't it less about what you want, and more about what you _should_ do?"

"That would be being selfless."

"Which you aren't," Kagerou said. She ran a finger past her ear, straightening a lock of hair with a defeated sigh.

"Mm hmm."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Shiranui wanted to be happy, but she couldn't forget Liam and Ian so quickly.

"Besides, I'm not much of a leader," Shiranui said. "I forced Hugh to work outside during the typhoon, standing on the narrowest part of the desk with only a railing between him and the water. If things had gone a little differently, we might have lost another man. I'm not fit to make these kinds of decisions."

Kagerou shook her head. "No, I think you made the right choice. You have him the least intensive task. I had to reach down a couple feet to grab the bucket from the Captain, and then bring it up and through the window. Hugh wouldn't have been able to do that for any extended periods of time. You knew what needed to be done, and divided the work in the most effective way possible."

The next hour passed in disjointed conversation, interspersed with Kagerou's yawns

"You can sleep, if you want," Shiranui finally said. "I'll even lend you my lap."

She had thought it was a generous offer, but Kagerou gave her a stiff glare. "Could you please refrain from treating me like a little kid? I'm fine. It'll pass in a bit, and then I'll be good for a full day's work. My body just needs to realize it's not getting any sleep tonight."

Mentally, Shiranui pointed out Hyuuga got to sleep on Kagerou's lap, but she found a more important concern to voice. "A full day's work? You don't actually plan on going to school tomorrow, do you?"

Kagerou crossed her arms. "As opposed to?"

"Skipping?"

"We're going to school."

"Skipping."

"Ms Skipper."

"What?" Shiranui said with a frown.

"That's what one of my friends calls you."

"I don't know why she would expend the energy to give me a nickname."

"Me neither. You're totally not worth it."

"Thanks," Shiranui said, when she caught sight of Kagerou grinning in the dark.

But the grin didn't last long.

"Operation Poitin... don't you find it odd?" Kagerou said.

"How so?" Shiranui said cautiously.

"The captain's insistence. Even in the face of a typhoon. His crew, aside from Liam, was a little odd, too. I can't say how, but they didn't really seem like the type to be salvaging stuff from shipwrecks. And I feel like there's more to Hugh than meets the eye."

Kagerou wasn't stupid. In fact, she was smarter than Shiranui, but she hadn't been nosy enough to discover Conor's secrets.

"Desperation does odd things to people," Shiranui hedged.

"If there was something more to this venture, and you knew about it... would you tell me?"

Was that not her outright stating she knew Shiranui knew more? "Why ask? I'm a liar."

"You're very self-deprecating."

"Or maybe it's just the honest truth."

"You tell me the honest truth is that you're a selfish liar. Am I supposed to believe that?"

"Yes," Shiranui said, cracking a smile.

Kagerou returned the smile, and Shiranui stood up.

"We're nearly to shore. I'm going to check on everyone indoors, see if Conor has maybe woken from his depressed state. Be careful out here."

"Careful? _You're_ telling _me_ to be careful?"

* * *

Inside, Hyuuga was sleeping. Conor was at the wheel; at the very least, he seemed capable of bringing them back to port. Hugh was leaning back in his chair, and didn't even turn to look at her when she entered.

"Are we close enough to radio shore?" Shiranui asked.

Hugh nodded. "But we won't."

"Why not?" she said, tensing.

"We have some business to handle, before the IJN or Amagi gets in our way."

"Amagi?"

"She would be Hyuuga's patrol leader. Didn't think she had it in her, to abandon one of her soldiers, but she did, and it's probably eating her alive, right now."

"Then we need to radio in, tell her Hyuuga's safe!"

"No."

"What kind of business is more important than letting her friends know she's safe?" Shiranui hissed, afraid she would receive a logical response.

"Classified," Hugh said. He waved his hand, as if dismissing her.

"Bullshit. Just who the hell do you think you are?"

Hugh spun around in the chair and stood up, but he kept a hand on the chair's back. "I am the man who conceived this mission, and ordered its execution.

Shiranui stared at him in disbelief. If what he was saying was true, then it hadn't been Conor's decision to charge into the typhoon. Hugh was, in large part, responsible for the deaths of Liam and Ian. He was the one who had bound the Abyssal in duct tape, and he was the one who had insisted they _not_ rescue Hyuuga, citing lack of fuel and potential for ambush. In retrospect, he had probably lied about their radio being broken, or even disabled it himself. He had spent enough time unattended at the control panels.

When Kagerou had said she thought there was more to Hugh than met the eye, she had been completely right.

He was old, though, and she could oust him from his chair and do the job instead – yet she didn't. She had already overstepped her bounds with Conor. It was enough. She had done enough. It wasn't a responsibility she wanted.

"Fine," Shiranui said. "If you're telling the truth, I want details. What exactly were you hoping to accomplish, with this?"

Still, she didn't think it safe to mention she knew about the Abyssal. Unless she was able to coax the information out of Hugh, it was better to pretend ignorance.

Hugh looked pointedly at Hyuuga, who was stirring on the bench, under one of the precious few blankets left on the ship.

"I owe you all some answers," Hugh acknowledged, "but not now. We wait for her to wake."

* * *

Somehow, Hyuuga was still sleeping when they reached shore.

Hugh was the first off the ship, leaving them to tie up to the mooring. He returned relatively quickly, passing a pair of rubber rain boots to Shiranui.

"Here," he said. "You'll need these. I checked the harbour master's office. He's out, but we have access to his truck. I'll bring the truck over. In the meantime, an ambulance has just arrived to take Liam."

Once Hugh left again, Kagerou surprised her by taking the initiative. The girl knelt down, grabbing the edge of the tarp around Liam's head. Shiranui didn't want to, but she knew looking weak in front of Kagerou would hurt even more, so she went to the other end. Without exchanging words, they lifted his body. Shiranui led, walking backwards out of the cabin and across the gangplank. She wanted to say something, but she didn't know what. If Kagerou wasn't around, maybe she would have apologized. Unlike Ian's unexplained death, it had been within her control to prevent Liam's death.

So many things she could have done differently, yet she took the precise course of action that resulted in his life ending.

"You shouldn't have jumped in after him," Kagerou said.

Shiranui met her eyes for a moment. For all the times Kagerou had mentioned responsibility and respect, it didn't seem like appropriate words for her to say, yet her eyes shone with belief of her statement. Shiranui checked behind her, navigating around a post and making sure their path was clear, though she was pretty sure Kagerou would say something before letting her run into an obstacle.

"That doesn't sound right," Shiranui said. "Not coming from you. What, should I have left him to die?"

"He is dead, though."

Shiranui winced.

"Sorry."

"That's not an answer. Tell me, should I have done nothing?"

That no response was forthcoming surprised her. She had expected Kagerou to backtrack – to contradict herself – and say no, but silence meant she couldn't. Kantai Academy was a school of ignoble people, she reminded herself. Even if Kagerou was pretty and acted cute when embarrassed, she was still in a career where their lives would be at stake, and where they had to leave people for dead, and even worse, kill.

Shiranui didn't know what she wanted. Was she pursuing a relationship with Kagerou? It seemed implausible. At times, she'd thought maybe Kagerou was attracted to her, yet the girl always rebuffed her advances. Kagerou wasn't emotionally distant – she had cried when Shiranui had recovered Liam's body – but maybe love was off the table, as long as they were destined to be soldiers?

In fact, maybe love wasn't worth it, when either of them could die at any moment. Maybe Shiranui was being immature and stupid, regarding the possibilities before them. If there was only war in their future, then that was that.

The grip Shiranui had on the tarp was painful. She couldn't loosen it, or she risked dropping the body, so in the end she only tightened her grip, her fingers sore and hurting as the tarp tried to slip from her grasp.

"I just thought you were more selfish than that," Kagerou finally said.

She managed to say it in the most diplomatic way possible, and Shiranui couldn't bring herself to feel offended.

"I am," Shiranui said, "but he saved you."

"Why should that matter?"

 _Because I've fallen for you. I think. Or something._

"Dunno," Shiranui said, swearing under her breath. "I guess, since we're acquaintances, it was my gut reaction. Whatever kind of person Liam was – he tried to save you. How does it go? One good deed deserves another?"

Kagerou nodded and they shuffled along for a few more minutes in silence.

"I was scared you were both going to die, and I'd never see you again."

Shiranui couldn't form a response.

In the darkness, the flashing lights from the ambulance made the wet cement shine red, then white, and then red again. There was seaweed flattened out, as though left to dry, nearer to the water. The waves had brought them in, along with a few fish. The wind had done its fair share, too. It had broken branches off nearby trees, knocked over a garbage can, spreading the mess around, and just generally made a mess of the harbour.

Together, the wind and waves took down a couple smaller ships that hadn't been properly secured. They were capsized, and nobody seemed to be tending to them. It was too early in the morning, so the ships' owners wouldn't be informed until later. The news would probably be devastating to the owners, because since the Flooding, insurance companies changed their policies whenever water was involved. It was just one of the many small things that had changed in their world.

Two shifty looking men were waiting inside the ambulance, and they gave Shiranui pause. Fully decked in army gear – camouflage jackets and pants, service pistols on the belts at their sides and assault rifles in hand, they looked ready to assault an Abyssal base. There was no illusion that the men were paramedics, or even medics, and it made for a very odd sight, so much weaponry cramped in a vehicle tailored to save lives.

One of the men was constantly looking down at the ground, as if extremely shy or determined to hide his face, but the other watched them curiously. He was tall, and might have been intimidating if not for a tattoo on his cheek of a dolphin jumping out of water.

Setting Liam's body down on the stretcher, Shiranui sensed no ill will from the men. It was easily explainable by the typhoon; paramedics would be occupied elsewhere, tending to wounded civilians, and since Liam was already dead, they sent the soldiers instead. The only thing Shiranui couldn't explain was why they sent an ambulance in the first place, when any vehicle would have been sufficient.

"What time is it?" Kagerou asked the taller man.

"Zero three thirty-two. Are you two from Nomi?"

"We are."

"Road's closed. Flooded in some parts, and about eight kilometers on, a landslide took it out. You won't be getting back driving, unless you wrap around the entire mountain. Crew will be in tomorrow to clean it up, but buses won't be running until late afternoon tomorrow, at the very earliest."

Kagerou nodded and they stepped out of the ambulance.

"Here," the man said, reaching down to hand her a white bag with a large red cross on it. "You said you had injured."

She hadn't been around when Hugh made the radio call, but it seemed he was at least on top of things. even if Conor wasn't. Shiranui took the bag and Kagerou muttered a thanks.

"One more thing," the man shouted as the ambulance's engine started. "The typhoon swung northward from here."

"It hit Nomi?" Kagerou said.

He nodded and closed the double doors of the ambulance, and a few seconds later, it drove off.

They watched the ambulance, and Liam, leave the harbour and turn right, onto the road south to Ono.

Walking back to the ship, along the length of the port, reality hit her. She stopped to kick a crate. Her boots weren't steel toed and she hoped she didn't break any toes, but it hurt enough for her to voice her anger.

"Fuck!"

 _Three hundred meters._

She was tired, and had lapsed into autopilot mode, fully intending on bringing out the body of the second crew member they lost, but he was somewhere out in the ocean, three hundred meters underwater, trapped in an unmarked shipwreck. Ian's body wouldn't ever be retrieved; there was no reason to return to the _Irish Hazel_ , now that its cargo had been salvaged.

There would be no body to bury. Did he have family, who would cry when they heard the news? Did he have a daughter, who could have been Shiranui's age, who would blame her for letting him die? The recklessness of leaving him under the water during a typhoon was shameful. Even if it hadn't been the typhoon, but an Abyssal or some other force of nature that had killed him, he had died such a terrible, pointless death.

"Shiranui?"

"I-" she choked. Was there anything to say?

"Are you okay?"

The question was so silly, but so sincere, and Shiranui knew she couldn't answer it honestly. She needed to refocus on the task, before things went sideways. In her mind, she was the tough one – the one who had lost her parents yet managed to move past it – and the one whose decisions had cost lives. She was supposed to be capable, unflinching in the face of danger and loss, yet she was so close to breaking down.

 _I'm stronger than this._

She swallowed her emotions, and met Kagerou's eyes with a grin. "Give me a hug and I will be."

 _'Could you please refrain from being so childish and demanding?'_

However, the predicted response never came. Instead, Shiranui found herself in a gentle embrace.

Their cheeks brushed together for a moment, and then Kagerou rested her chin on Shiranui's shoulder, her wet hair caressing Shiranui's ear. Shiranui froze, both pleased with her success, and a little overwhelmed by the contact.

Two thirty in the morning, standing in a puddle under the pale, flickering light from the lamppost overhead, in the aftermath of a typhoon that had ravaged the coastline and all the boats in the harbour, Kagerou was hugging her. Shiranui craned her head up towards the sky to watch the starry canvas so far above them. It was beautiful.

Maybe the hug was as much for herself than for Shiranui, or maybe Shiranui's fake grin hadn't sold her, but in whatever case, Shiranui was speechless. When her mind finally told her to return the embrace, rather than standing there like a stupid mannequin, it was too late. Kagerou pulled away. She turned her back to Shiranui and crossed her arms, before looking up momentarily at the night's sky. A few seconds of silence passed before Kagerou cleared her throat.

"Let's get Hyuuga patched up and finish the job, okay?" she said, beginning to walk away.

It was hard to see in the weak lighting, but when Kagerou looked back to make sure Shiranui was following, her face was beet red, eyes betraying signs of trepidation.

Five minutes later, they arrived back at the _Kasagami_. Hugh had already brought over a large, flatbed truck and parked it next to the barge, and he took the first aid supplies from Shiranui.

"I've got the girl, you two load the salvage," he said, crossing the gangplank at surprisingly brisk pace and entering the cabin.

Shiranui and Kagerou began the cumbersome task of unloading the barge, bringing the crates to the truck bed, and securing them. Shiranui counted each one, as they worked. It had cost two lives to retrieve thirty six crates from the ocean. She might have calculated the yen per life, but the prospect was too depressing.

* * *

At some point during the job, Shiranui excused herself for a break.

The undertaking had become a simple process, where they barely needed to exchange words, and it might not have been a good idea to step away when they were making such good progress, but Shiranui had been thinking, and everything was coming to an end so she wanted one last attempt to understand things, before Hugh spoke to them and told them whatever lies he had prepared.

Hugh was leaning against the driver's side door of the truck, looking to be in deep thought as he took a drag of his cigarette. Much too frail to do manual work, he hadn't bothered to offer assistance and was instead content to wait for Shiranui and Kagerou to finish.

He was hiding secrets, and Shiranui wouldn't have been surprised if he was a high ranking officer in the Imperial Japanese Navy. It would explain how Kashima had gotten them involved, and at least begin to make clear their reason for transporting an Abyssal. Since Asheville's successful capture of an Abyssal, other nations had taken interest in emulating the feat, and Japan was certainly no exception.

For the moment, Conor was her target for information.

She felt guilty, leaving Kagerou to continue working alone, struggling to lift the crates up onto the truck bed, but opportunities to interview Conor were few. With quiet feet, she stepped inside the _Kasagami's_ cabin and closed the door behind her. As if they were still at sea, Conor stood behind the helm, staring straight ahead.

She looked around the room, and didn't see Hyuuga. When did she slip out, and where was she?

"Calamity Conor," Shiranui said, breaking the room's silence.

He didn't meet her eyes, but he turned his head marginally, indicating he had at least heard her. They were dull, defeated eyes.

"You know," she said, "if someone gave me such an unpleasant title, I would probably do something about it. Maybe, I don't know, _stay away from the water_."

Standing in a semi-catatonic state, he didn't even wince at her words. For a moment, she expected him to be broken out of his reverie, and retaliate, telling her off for being so obnoxious. He didn't, however, and her anger only grew stronger because of it.

"I made the mistake of trusting you, and now that's going to weigh on my conscience. Same for Kagerou, and she doesn't need this kind of shit distracting her. A captain has responsibilities," she said, closing the distance between them so she could lower her voice. "And you already know one of these responsibilities is to see to the crew's safety, but you've overlooked one key detail. As the captain of the ship, you are the ultimate law. You make the decisions. Maybe you're given a command by some superior on shore, but once the boat leaves, all that matters is the captain's words. It's how order was kept aboard sailing ships for centuries. Nobody is dumb enough to even suggest a mutiny, when the thought will have them dismembered and thrown overboard for the sharks.

"Point in case, it doesn't matter what Hugh wanted – you were the one who decided to stay out in the typhoon, and that was ultimately what killed Liam and Ian. Now tell me, was it worth it? What did you hope to accomplish? Were you going to meet the Abyssals, make a trade of hostages? Or attempt to blackmail them with your prisoner? I want to know the reason why these men died."

She waited a second.

The lack of recognition in his eyes told her she wasn't going to get any information from him. There was no surprise, and no emotion. It was a pathetic sight, yet despite her words, she still pitied Conor. Operation Poitin could have been built upon a threat to his life, or to his family, coercing him into making the decisions he'd made. It may have even been the respect Conor had for Hugh, which led him to blindly obey the man.

Shiranui might have pressed too hard, but she wanted answers, and now she would need to rely on Hugh for them. Giving up, she stormed out of the cabin and rejoined Kagerou, who's pace had slowed to a crawl without help.

* * *

An hour, and two trips to the warehouse later, the boat was unloaded.

"Good work girls," Hugh said. "You're done, now."

Conor hadn't left the ship. The entire time they had been breaking their backs working, he stood silently at the helm, staring out into the darkness beyond the window.

"There's still the labeling to do-" Kagerou said, just far enough out of reach that Shiranui couldn't punch her.

Hugh shook his head. "It's late. I'll be hiring some extra hands for distribution, so they'll handle it. Before you go, walk with me for a minute."

The three of them joined Hyuuga, standing at the end of the dock. No boats were moored so far out, so they had an unobstructed view of the water around them. Gentle waves crashed against the pier, but Shiranui didn't see them as gentle. They were more like hibernating bears, waiting for the next big storm to wake and cause havoc.

Hyuuga took a step back when she heard them, as if afraid someone would push her into the water. A bandage was wrapped around her elbow – a job done by Hugh – and she stepped closer, the four of them forming a huddle.

Hugh cleared his throat.

"Ladies, I will admit, today did not proceed as I had imagined it would."

Shiranui crossed her arms. "You finally going to tell us who you are, and what's going on?"

"Yes, and no. Some of it's classified. Top secret, so to speak. Some of it, I would like to discuss now, in hopes that it will satisfy you and keep you quiet on the events that transpired tonight. I am Lieutenant General Hugh of the Imperial Japanese Army."

Kagerou gasped, before bringing a hand to her lips. "The army?" she said through spread fingers.

Shiranui was surprised, too. The army was nearly nonexistent. Budget cuts and reorganization reordered the importance of the different military branches, so that the imperial navy was first, followed by the navy air service and the navy land forces, and then the Railways and Shipping section of the army, followed by the army itself. In other words, the army was essentially left forgotten, trying to stay afloat with minimal staff and funding.

She looked upon the man with a newfound respect.

Hyuuga didn't react, however, and Shiranui made a note of it. Either she hid her emotions well, or she had already known who Hugh was.

"I will make a few things clear, and the rest you will need to understand we aren't in a position to explain – either because we can't, or because it's a matter of the empire's security. The _Irish Hazel_ had more than alcohol aboard, when it sank seven years ago. Conor was smuggling another resource into Japan, and it was so valuable that the loss of the cargo resulted in his entire fortune disappearing overnight. The operation was to make use of this resource, but there exists some internal strife within the army, so ultimately this plan wasn't authorized by the men at the top. In the interest of the empire, however, a small faction took independent action. I lead this faction. Sergeant Ian Reid was one of its members, and I deeply regret his death. Liam was a civilian, though I equally regret his loss."

"And Conor?" Shiranui said.

"Civilian." He lapsed into a silence. "I believe relying on those outside our faction was a mistake. Our decisions were heavily influenced by an advisor who wasn't a soldier of the imperial army, and it was a critical mistake of mine to believe she could do no wrong."

 _She?_

"By 'she', do you mean Professor Kashima?" Kagerou said. "Does Professor Kashima know of all this?"

Hugh grimaced. "I've met that woman a few times. No, she wasn't aware of the real reason behind why Conor contacted her. And she won't ever learn, because we don't need the wrath of the navy descending on us. I imagine it would be worse than a thousand typhoons."

Hyuuga shuddered, but Hugh didn't seem to notice.

"You need to understand, we've all got different opinions on how this war should be run, but even if we come from different branches of the military, some things do not change. I rank higher than all three of you, and you _will_ obey my orders. Do not speak of Operation Poitin to anyone. It did not happen. Do not ask questions and do not go searching for answers.

"Kagerou, Shiranui, you two are dismissed. Hyuuga, come with me and we'll discuss getting into contact with Captain Amagi."

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter took forever to edit and still didn't come out exactly as wanted, but I have four more chapters waiting to be edited so I figured I would just keep moving forward.

Now for some learning: the term 'mayday' was created in 1923 and is believed to originate from the French _m'aider_ , meaning _help me_. The word 'wormhole' is surprisingly new – only being coined in 1957.


	9. Operation Poitin - Part V (Final)

The road was blocked, buses weren't running, and everything was wet. It was four in the morning and the only sign of sunlight was a slowly graying horizon.

Shiranui and Kagerou were left with the decision of what to do, and Kagerou insisted they return to town as soon as possible, since school started at eight thirty in the morning. Shiranui just wanted a soft bed to lie in and forget about the day, so she didn't voice any complaints, and they began the long walk north.

What had once been a twenty minute bus ride would now take them hours, and when they came across the first miniature creek that ran across the road, Shiranui wondered if maybe she should have insisted they stay at the harbour, finding refuge in the harbour master's office until the bus schedule was restored.

The roads, like most on the island, were newly paved, two lanes, and without sidewalks. They had no bicycle lanes either, despite the popularity of bikes. Fortunately, the government had been proactive about choosing their routes, and as such it was mostly straight stretches of road, which sometimes bordered the edge of cliffs overlooking the ocean.

The construction crew had dug through hills and exploded mountains where needed, to keep the road as straight as possible, and in places where it wasn't feasible to move mountains, they drilled straight through, and the tunnels were lit by yellow lights in the ceiling at regular intervals, and the painted lane dividers were reflective.

Or rather, they were supposed to be lit. A part of the power grid must have been knocked out, because the lights were dead, and they travelled through a handful of tunnels slowly, running their hands along its walls in pitch black, impatient for the time when they would escape the stale tunnel air and return aboveground.

On their right, the terrain alternated between cliff wall and steep ascending slopes, which had temporary creeks running down it – a result of the heavy rainfall brought in by the typhoon – and to their left, they could see the ocean when there weren't any trees in the way, and the starry sky was omnipresent yet quiet. They passed two recently placed signs, one warning of landslides and another warning the road was closed, both supported at their base by a pile of wet sandbags.

Their pace had started as a brisk walk, but it had fallen off after an hour, and they trudged along in a comfortable silence – a silence that was almost enough to fall asleep in – and the roads were littered with rocks and branches from the winds and rain the typhoon had brought ashore, and occasionally they would bend over and each take an end of a branch and drag it aside, so next day's cleaning crew wouldn't have to stop their vehicles every five minutes to clear the road, and they did it all without speaking. In their exhaustion, it seemed they had devolved to the same state of mind, where cleaning the obstacles in their way seemed logical.

They didn't operate in synchrony, however. Sometimes they would try to go different directions and end up dropping the branch, or they would mistime the throw and it would fall lopsided next to their feet, and other times they would bend down to pick up different branches, only to realize it and both switch to the other branch, the process repeating several times underneath the moonlight.

When the road passed near the ocean, they watched a landslide. It had started out quiet, a large mass of rock and sand cliff shifting and then sliding downwards into the ocean below, and then when the larger rocks hit the water, it reminded Shiranui of the sound of rain hammering on the barge and of the waves washing over the concrete, trying to sweep them away and into the typhoon. Even after it had stopped and the last rock had been dislodged and fallen into the water, they watched.

Maybe neither wanted to continue walking, but the call of a soft bed, even if it was still hours away, was too alluring for Shiranui. She broke from her reverie first, and passed Kagerou, brushing shoulders to alert Kagerou to resume the walk. It was five seconds before she realized she didn't hear Kagerou's footsteps on the wet road, and she looked back and Kagerou was still standing there.

As though continuing the pattern of support, she backtracked and took the girl's hand. Together, they continued their walk.

They crossed a meter tall pile of dirt, sand, plant roots, and rocks that covered the road – the landslide the soldier had earlier mentioned – and with sand in their boots and their socks wet, they persevered.

The creeks that ran across the road and dumped the ocean were steadily growing stronger, and then the road before them was fractured. Like an earthquake had torn the cement asunder, the depths of an abyss was revealed to them.

It was too dark to estimate how deep it was, but they could hear water running at the bottom. It was too rapid to be called a creek. If they had been standing in it, they probably would have lost their footing and been swept away.

Shiranui checked the left side of the road and saw a waterfall dumping into the ocean. They were walking along the top of a cliff, so there was no possible way to descend to go around. Their only choice was scampering up the slope to their right.

She went first, carefully checking her footing with each step, and pulling on weeds and roots several times to make sure they could support her weight, and eventually Kagerou's, and they began climbing the side of the mountain. The slope lessened, the higher they got, and once they could no longer see the road through the trees, it was flat enough to walk.

Unfortunately, the trees were also blocking the moonlight, and the forest's darkness was pressing into them from all sides.

For five minutes, or perhaps ten or longer, they walked parallel along the river. It wasn't newly created by the typhoon, she realized. She remembered passing it on the bus ride to the harbour. An all-year-round river, a concrete bridge had been built over top it. The typhoon, however, shouldn't have been strong enough to take out a bridge and tear cement.

Before she could figure out the mystery, Kagerou pulled on her shoulder, pointing towards a log that had fallen across the river. It was mossy, and wet, and unless someone poured oil on it, there was simply no way for it to be any more slippery than it already was.

Twice, she tested it by putting a foot forward and out onto the log above the rushing waters. She didn't feel safe enough, and in the end she crawled across on her hands and knees. Kagerou did the same, and after helping her stand up on the other side, they began their trek back downhill, towards the road.

When the world had flooded, lots of problems arose. Disease ran rampant, fresh water was in shortage, power outages brought the economy to a standstill, and crops were dying in the new climates or taken by the ocean, but the problems weren't even close to ending there. Silly problems were discovered, and the smaller they were, the sillier they were and the less likely the government would address them.

They had made it back to the road, but it was dark and they were surrounded before they realized it. Shiranui counted seven moonlit eyes. Feral dogs stalking them.

Fearless, and probably desperate for food, the wolves growled, indicating the girls were to became a late night snack.

Like apprentice samurai of the Heian era, Shiranui and Kagerou picked up nearby sticks, holding them outwards like training swords. Kagerou's stick was a little longer, offering more reach and safety, but Shiranui had elected for a heavier one, to hit harder and hope for more decisive damage.

It would be silly to die to dogs, Shiranui decided.

Though maybe she was wrong about her and Kagerou not being in synchrony. Without speaking, or otherwise planning it, they adjusted their positions to be back to back, facing outwards towards the circle of enemies. Shiranui was pretty sure she had seen the formation in an old samurai show, but she couldn't remember which. Had Kagerou seen the same film?

The wolves, like any smart predator, started by testing the waters. The larger ones jumped forward, trying to nip at them, only to be repelled by wooden swords. One yelped as Kagerou scored a clean hit, and they back off for a few minutes.

Taking their newfound liberty, the girls began slowly moving down the road, keeping their formation.

It was the wrong choice. Not wanting their prey to escape, the dogs became more aggressive.

Shiranui swung at the nearest one, but it was a glancing blow and another broke through her opening, biting at her leg. She pulled back just in time and it only latched onto the fabric of her jeans. When she gave it a whack on the head, she had a moment to look behind her and caught sight of Kagerou fighting.

She felt too many emotions, and almost forgot about her own fight. She was impressed by Kagerou's composed fighting stance and clean strikes, but she was terrified of the girl, because it only served as reminder as to who they were, and what they were training to be. She felt fear for their own safety, and disappointment that she couldn't protect Kagerou, and perhaps a little frustrated that Kagerou didn't need protecting, and maybe, in truth, it was herself who needed protecting.

Their lives seemed so insignificant as they fought the wild animals, swinging sticks more like cavemen than the samurai they aspired to be. Once or twice, she had to push forward, chasing a dog away so she could grab another stick from the road to replace the half broken one in her hand, but just as quickly she had to return to her position at Kagerou's back.

Shiranui shouted, kicking out at the nearest dog. It yelped, and she swung threateningly at one approaching from the side.

Without any visible signal, the wolves all retreated at once, disappearing into the brush leading up from the road.

They were breathing heavy, and waited, watching the trees as if expecting the wolves to return.

"You're bleeding," Kagerou finally said.

It was true. She had been distracted and angry, and couldn't remember when it happened, but her arm was bleeding. A bite mark just above her wrist, where it looked like the fangs had dragged across it, slicing her skin open before the injury stopped.

"Yeah."

"Let's keep going."

Kagerou looked troubled, but maybe she realized there was nothing they could do, being above the city and away from everything but the bushes, trees, and road.

They kept their sticks, and Kagerou set a quicker pace, Shiranui only a step behind. Maybe the attack had woken Kagerou up, but Shiranui had a feeling the adrenaline would wear off soon and she would slow down, and in turn Shiranui would slow down too.

She felt lightheaded, and examined her arm. Blood was still flowing, but it wasn't enough to cause serious harm. She tilted and rotated her arm in various ways, fascinated by how the blood drew streaks of red across her wrist, palm, and fingers.

One of the smaller wolves must have gotten her. It offered little piece of mind, but it could have been much worse. She would need a rabies shot – how much would that cost? If she explained her situation to the school, maybe they would cover the fee?

The next obstacle they ran into wasn't on the road, but Shiranui found it just as troubling. Peering down the side of the cliff, into the ocean, they could see a shipwreck.

The typhoon's winds and waves had carried the merchant vessel into the cliff's walls, and it hadn't survived. Shiranui couldn't tell exactly what happened, but she suspected the hull had been gashed open on a rock, and it began to take on water. The ship's cabin was larger than the Kasagami's, and it was above water, but the deck was submerged and, from their height at the top of the cliff, it was hard to tell by how much.

"Don't," Kagerou said.

"I wasn't. I'm not stupid."

She was, on both accounts. Normally, she wouldn't give the shipwreck a second thought, but she was tired. Too tired to think straight, so she ended up actually being concerned.

Usually people cared less when they were tired.

"Nobody is down there," Kagerou said. "No survivors, at least." She didn't sound very convincing.

"There might be. How can you know?"

Kagerou leaned over, and bringing her hands to her mouth, she hollered. There was no response but the waves.

"They might be too injured to respond."

Kagerou shook her head. "You're the one that's injured. Even if you do get down there, how exactly do you plan on getting back? We'll report the shipwreck once we get in town."

Shiranui disagreed.

"You don't know if it's deep enough to dive. You could end up plastered against rock a meter under the surface, or just hitting one of the rocks that are jutting out."

Still, Shiranui wasn't convinced.

"I wouldn't be able to handle it," Kagerou said.

"You don't need to. I'll go alone."

"That's not what I mean."

Shiranui thought on the words for a minute, but had no response.

Kagerou grabbed her arm to tug on it, but let go just as quickly and stared at her now bloody fingers. "It probably broke loose from the docks and was dragged down here by the wind. There's no reason anyone would be out at sea during the typhoon."

"Except us."

Kagerou nodded. "Except us."

They watched the waves in silence, and eventually Shiranui pulled away from the edge. They continued following the road back to town, and an owl overhead kept them company for five minutes before it lost interest, flying away into the forest.

Turning a corner on the mountainside road, the entire city of Nomi suddenly came into view. It was dark, and it took a moment to realize the power outage blacked out the entire city. The only lights were faint, moving ones on the roads, from vehicles and people with lanterns.

Blood didn't make for very good nail polish, Shiranui decided. It was only when her tongue was inches away from the wound, did she manage to catch herself. She stopped, focusing every iota of her attention on keeping her hands at her side, letting the blood drip down her hand and off her fingernails.

Thirsty, she realized. She'd had a water bottle aboard the Kasagami, but had chugged the rest of it when they got to shore, not seeing reason to leave any water behind. What she should have done was refill it, and take it with them. Her exhaustion was causing her to make stupid mistakes.

They passed a sign announcing they were within city limits, but they were still far from the academy. There were only a few buildings around them.

She pulled her sweater off, then her shirt. Kagerou didn't turn around. She struggled for a minute before managing to wrap her shirt around her injury in an almost worthless attempt to stem the bleeding. Then, she put her sweater back on. Her sweater was more valuable, and though it was already a little bloodied, she didn't want to soak it in any more blood than necessary.

It felt weird, walking down the city streets with a sweater's fabric pressing against her body but lacking a shirt. She gradually became accustomed to it, or perhaps she had simply grown numb to external stimuli.

"Here," Kagerou said an indeterminable amount of time later. "Wait a minute."

"If I wait here any longer than fifty nine seconds, I'm going to fall asleep."

"That's fine – I won't be a minute," Kagerou said, disappearing into an apartment.

Shiranui looked around in surprise. They were in a more urban area. Down the road, she could see a Seven Eleven and a small crowd of people congregated outside of it. She wished she had coins to buy a drink.

Three minutes passed, before, out of breath, Kagerou opened the door again.

"Okay," she said. "You can come in now."

"I – what?"

"It's fine. Spend the night – uh, day – at my place. You're in no condition to go any further."

Conflicted.

This wasn't how she imagined first entering Kagerou's living space.

"Your parents won't mind?"

"They're not home. Hurry up, now."

Inside, Kagerou tended to her. As Shiranui expected, Kagerou was gentle as she wrapped Shiranui's arm in a bandage, her face filled with consternation as she wiped away the blood. Whenever she winced, Kagerou would whisper an apology, her fingers brushing softly against Shiranui's arm.

It continued like in her dreams, as Kagerou, her face reddening, began to strip her. The thought that she had passed out during the walk to town occurred to her, but when looked into Kagerou's eyes, she decided she couldn't be dreaming it.

Unfortunately, Kagerou stopped when she had only her panties and bra left. She handed Shiranui a pair of pajamas.

"Here. You can't stay in wet clothing. Change into these, I'll turn around."

If she had been a little more on the up and up, Shiranui might have said there was no need to turn around, but instead she obeyed. It was a little sad, that she couldn't appreciate wearing Kagerou's pajamas, but she vowed to herself when she woke up she would enjoy it with all her heart. She would also need to examine every inch of the apartment, as to figure out exactly what kind of person Kagerou was.

"Bed," Kagerou said, motioning towards it.

Shiranui didn't hesitate to climb in, making sure to leave ample room for Kagerou. Kagerou, however, had other plans. She opened a closet, pulled out a futon, and busied herself unraveling it.

"No," Shiranui said. "We share the bed."

Kagerou looked over. "Um... No, I roll around too much in my sleep, I'd only bother you."

Arguing took effort, so she resigned herself to sleeping alone.

* * *

 **A/N:** But Japan has no wolves! The last species went extinct in 1905. And no, no Seven Elevens in 1939. Rabies vaccine did exist at the time, so I'm not cheating there.

Next chapter will be better (hopefully), this was just wrapping up Operation Poitin.


	10. Friends

**A/N:** Shiranui + sleep deprivation = unreliable. Here's how it really went down.

* * *

Kagerou didn't want to wake to a bloodied carpet tomorrow morning, though she feared it was already too late. They entered the apartment slowly, Kagerou grasping Shiranui's hand and guiding her through the empty rooms in the darkness.

They stopped at the kitchen.

On the sill of a window overlooking a mostly-empty parking lot, she found a partially used candle. In a drawer of knickknacks – pins, paper clips, tapes, and tangled cords abound – she found a lighter. The candle took to flame on her first try, their shadows dancing through the room as she filled two plastic cups with water. She offered one to Shiranui, who took it and gulped it down in seconds.

"Slow down," Kagerou said, watching water drip down Shiranui's chin.

Shiranui shrugged and handed the cup back, immediately downing the refill Kagerou offered her seconds later. Dehydration avoided, Kagerou picked up the candle and they continued through the apartment.

It was much too large of a living space for Kagerou, and sometimes, in contrast to reality, she felt it suffocating. As though it were too much responsibility for a little girl like herself, the rooms seemed to look down on her as she dusted and vacuumed them on the weekends, leaving them empty and quiet all other days.

Multiple times, she considered putting an ad in the paper for a roommate, especially as money was becoming more and more tight, yet she could never bring herself to do it. Despite living quarters being in high demand in Nomi, it would draw too much attention to herself if she let someone share the place with her.

Downgrading was also a possibility, but she saw it as more of a complication than anything. The moving aspect of it was hardly a concern, but the paperwork would prove difficult, if not outright impossible, since her parents wouldn't be around to sign for it. Instead, she decided to keep living her quiet life in her current apartment, where her landlord didn't know her face, hardly knew her name, and had only been seen at the building once or twice in the one and a half years she had lived there.

They paused in the hallway, Kagerou almost handing the candle off to Shiranui before realizing the girl was barely awake and would probably drop the thing a second later. Instead, she elected to let go of Shiranui. The closet door creaked as she opened it, and with rough movements, she dug her hands into the pile of fabric, brushing past the newer, larger towels for an expandable one near the back. With the new item in hand, she continued down the hallway, whispering for Shiranui to follow.

They entered the bathroom together, and Kagerou set the candle down next to the sink.

She could hear Shiranui's breathing, more laboured than usual. Sweat glistened on her forehead, and her blue eyes were unfocused in the candlelight. A fever was not out of the question. Maybe going to the hospital was the correct choice.

Kagerou shook her head vigorously. Doubting herself would only make things worse. Like Shiranui always did, she had to rely on her instincts. The hospital would have been flooded, with people and perhaps literally, and without power it would be chaos, with hundreds of patients lining up and sporting a wide variety of injuries from the winds and rain brought ashore by the typhoon. Resources were much less numerous in her own apartment, but it was familiar territory, and she needed the comfort of familiarity.

Kagerou tugged Shiranui's arm closer to the mirror, and the girl didn't seem to mind. Pulling up the sleeve of Shiranui's sweater, she stared at the makeshift bandage – a shirt, wet from the ocean's salt water – that was wrapped around the wound, and frowned. Her eyes roamed to Shiranui's neck, and she saw the girl was only wearing a sweater, yet Kagerou couldn't remember when Shiranui had removed her shirt for a bandage – and why hadn't she asked for assistance in tying it? It was so loose that it hadn't helped much in stopping the bleeding. And even more importantly, why had Shiranui needed to do it herself? What had Kagerou been thinking, leaving her to tend to her injuries alone?

No. Kagerou knew what she had been thinking, for most of their walk back to Nomi. Her thoughts had been in the past, with friends and family, in an attempt to escape the present, with danger and death. Now was not the time to play the blame game. Mistakes were made, and would be made, but she had to focus on minimizing them, and their impact.

She removed the bloodied shirt, throwing it behind her, into the shower stall.

Then, she twisted the arm until the candle lit it properly, and leaned in, examining the wound closely. It wasn't as shallow as she had hoped, and though Shiranui didn't show any signs of it, the girl must have been in pain. Cautiously, Kagerou ran a finger down the arm, swerving past the bite mark until their fingertips were touching. She refrained from entwining her hand with Shiranui's, and kept silent when she wanted to whisper an apology.

Shiranui was quiet. Kagerou looked up, and their eyes met. Both girls were tired, from the ocean, from the typhoon, and from the long walk home, and Kagerou almost forgot she was holding Shiranui's arm, as they stared at each other. The silence was comforting, but now was not the time to fall asleep. She had sleepless nights before, so she wasn't unfamiliar with the task of staying awake even when she yawned every other minute.

The candlelight flickered, and Kagerou shook her head.

"It's going to hurt, but we need to clean it," she said.

Not waiting for a response, she turned the water on and spent a minute adjusting the temperature until it was perfect – warm, but not hot. She guided Shiranui's arm, now dripping with the crimson blood, under the stream of water. Shiranui resisted momentarily, but Kagerou kept a firm grip. Surprisingly, Shiranui didn't cry out, or even gasp as the water pressure from the tap pressed into the injury.

Soap was next, Kagerou making sure to wash her hands thoroughly before cleaning Shiranui's wound out.

Leaving Shiranui's arm under the water, she began to rummage through the cabinet. She ignored the smaller bandages – the adhesive type which were used to wrap around a child's finger when they got a paper cut – and pulled out a roll of bandage, scissors, and a bottle of three percent hydrogen peroxide. When she opened the bottle, she stared blankly at it for a moment before returning to the cabinet and grabbing three sponge gauzes.

She shut the water off, and was momentarily stunned by the sudden silence that enveloped the room. She shrugged it off, and, with a wet facecloth, began to wipe Shiranui's arm. The injury had occurred almost an hour ago, and lots of blood had dried on her arm, so Kagerou took the time to wipe it away, making sure to be extra careful around the wound itself.

Shiranui flinched, showing her first sign of discomfort.

"Sorry," Kagerou said, the words reactively escaping her lips in a whisper.

It was odd for Shiranui to finally react, when she was doing something much less aggressive, but she suspected she would get another reaction when she applied the hydrogen peroxide to sterilize the wound.

There was dried blood under Shiranui's fingernails, too, but Kagerou couldn't get at it, and decided it was fine to leave. She rinsed the cloth, and then threw it into the shower, alongside Shiranui's shirt. Opening the peroxide bottle, she felt nostalgia.

One of her first memories ever, over a decade ago, had been when she'd gotten a large sliver from playing with an incomplete woodworking project her father had left in the backyard. She had ran into the house, yelling and crying, and her mother, with a radiant confidence, had torn the sliver from her hand, and let the hydrogen peroxide run through the wound, bubbling with a stinging sensation that made her cries redouble themselves, before finally applying a bandage and leaving to hunt her husband down, to berate him for Kagerou's mistake.

Since then, she hadn't had much need for it.

Shiranui didn't shout or cry when the hydrogen peroxide went into her bite wound, however. In silence, they listened to the bubbling and hissing, like a freshly opened can of soda, until it fell silent, and then Kagerou pulled the gauze away and examined the wound, despite not knowing what she should see, and then they repeated the process, before she turned her attention to cutting off a strip of bandage. She pressed the final piece of gauze against the wound, and bound it tightly with the bandage.

As though Shiranui knew the process was done, she pulled her hand in and cradled it against her body.

"I did the best I could," Kagerou said, "but you'll need to visit the hospital. Maybe for stitches, but you'll definitely need a rabies shot. I'm going to get one, too."

Shiranui nodded, showing an understanding that Kagerou didn't believe the girl actually had.

Kagerou stood up. "Then I guess it's time for bed."

When Shiranui didn't join her in standing, Kagerou sighed. She left the bathroom, feeling an inexplicable concern for leaving Shiranui alone to her own devices for even a moment, and quickly found a spare set of pajamas, before returning. Shiranui hadn't moved an inch, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Here."

Shiranui didn't respond, nor did she reach out to take the clothing.

Kagerou hesitated. She had already seen the girl half naked before – in fact, it had been in their first meeting when Shiranui had willingly stripped, while swimming out in the ocean. Shiranui had even said she wasn't the type to get easily embarrassed. Pulling the girl's sweater up, Kagerou realized the absurdity of the situation – that being, she was more embarrassed than the one being undressed. She half expected Shiranui to break out into a light hearted laugh, before making some inappropriate comment about Kagerou's actions.

There was no reason to blush, nobody else was around.

Even so, she realized the candlelight, faint and flickering, was very romantic. The flame was reflected in the mirror, and the two lights danced in the air, as though energized, as Kagerou pulled Shiranui's sweater off. It too, joined the bloody items on the shower's floor. Kagerou picked the candle up, bringing it closer to them, and examined Shiranui's body.

For injuries, she told herself.

A white scar ran from the left side of Shiranui's hip, to her belly button – an old injury that Kagerou hadn't noticed before, because they had been submerged in the water. She surprised herself when she reached out to touch it, and the skin was warm as she ran a finger along the scar. When she felt Shiranui's breathing on the back of her neck, she realized she had leaned in a little too closely.

She quickly set the candle aside.

"Stand," she said, performing the action even as she spoke.

Slowly, like an old lady, Shiranui rose to her feet. Her lips were curved upwards ever so slightly, as though she were remembering an old joke, but her eyes were as hazy as ever. Though Kagerou didn't drink, and her parents didn't, either, she imagined Shiranui's eyes were much like a drunk's, at the moment. Usually, Kagerou would use 'sky blue' to describe Shiranui's eyes, a peculiar colour but no stranger than her pink hair, which in combination made the girl so fascinating.

Kagerou stepped closer, once again. Her heart beat erratically, and she felt like a child, so ignorant yet so curious, as she unbuttoned Shiranui's jeans, pulled the zipper down, and then the jeans themselves. She watched as the jeans fell to the floor, and Shiranui, most likely acting on auto pilot, stepped out of them, freeing her feet. When Kagerou realized she was reaching forward again, towards the girl's underwear, she stopped herself.

She had done enough. They were adults; mature people, who left the secrets of their bodies only to their lovers to discover. Kagerou would be overstepping her bounds, if she were to go any further, and she most certainly wasn't comfortable with it.

"Here. You can't stay in wet clothing. Change into these, I'll turn around."

Thankfully, Shiranui took the offered pajamas, and Kagerou turned around, resting her eyes on the pile of bloodied fabric in the shower stall. Shiranui's shirt was a goner, but she hoped the rest could be properly cleaned, with enough effort. She turned her head marginally, until she could see movement in the mirror. It took her a moment to realize what she was trying to do, and she quickly reaffirmed her stare on the shower. It felt like all the heat in her body concentrated itself in her ears, as she felt blood rush to her face.

They were both female, so what exactly was drawing her attention to the girl changing behind her?

There shouldn't have been any interest, when she had already explored her own body in detail and knew everything there was to know.

She remembered the sight of Shiranui's scar, in the candle's weak light, and realized that just because she knew her own body, didn't mean she knew Shiranui's – but it wasn't something she wanted to know, she told herself. That was a foolish notion.

She waited a few minutes, until she was absolutely sure Shiranui had finished changing. During this time, she locked her head in place, not moving a centimeter, in the direction of the mirror or otherwise. When she turned around, Shiranui was standing watching her silently. The pajamas were a little too tight of a fit, but neither girl was in a position to complain.

Kagerou nodded towards the door, and they left. It took only a second of standing out in the dark halls before Kagerou remembered she had forgotten to grab the candle, and quickly backtracked and retrieved it.

They moved into her room, and she set the light atop her dresser.

"Bed," she said, motioning towards her bed.

Even the thought of Shiranui sleeping in her bed flustered her, and she distracted herself by setting up her own bed, a futon which she rarely used and couldn't say why she owned in the first place.

It was the obvious decision, letting her guest have the bed. Shiranui was injured, more so than Kagerou, and a comfortable sleep would be vital to recovering, especially if they wanted to make it to school in a few hours. Kagerou would perhaps be a little lenient, letting them sleep in and be late for the first class, but they needed to be able to seamlessly begin their third week at Kantai Academy. Things were only getting harder, as the Kantai Project's demands increased.

Prior to today, Kagerou had pursued her career because she believed it was the right thing to do, but since Liam and Ian's deaths, which she felt she was able to blame, at least indirectly, on the Abyssals, she realized she was looking forward to continuing in the Kantai Project much more than before. As though she, personally, had a stake in the success of the project, rather than thinking it was okay to do her best and be proud of herself.

Now, doing her best wouldn't be enough. They _would_ end the war.

"No. We share the bed."

Kagerou snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of Shiranui's voice. Shiranui was in her bed, positioned at the edge and patting the spot beside her, like she were motioning for a dog to jump up. The invitation was said with surprising clarity, though Shiranui looked exhausted and seconds from sleep.

Kagerou's gut reaction was to say no, but she had no reason behind it. Because it was embarrassing, to share a bed? Because she was afraid she would be drawn to Shiranui – to search for more scars, of course - ? Kagerou hesitated. Maybe they should share a bed. Kagerou herself was tired, and she wanted to be close to Shiranui in case the girl's condition worsened.

She looked at the girl, feeling a momentary wave of confusion, seeing Shiranui dressed in her own pajamas

"Um... No," she finally said. "I roll around too much in my sleep, I'd only bother you."

Shiranui sighed, perhaps expecting the answer. "You're boring."

"Sit up for a moment."

Shiranui obeyed, and Kagerou climbed up on the bed. Crawling around to Shiranui's back, she sat down cross legged. She sifted through a strand of the girl's hair. The candle was so distant that the hair looked more brown, than anything, in the darkness.

"What are you doing?" Shiranui asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Kagerou's hands froze, before she quickly reached for Shiranui's ponytail, and began drawing the hair through it. Even the ponytail was damp, and Kagerou leaned in and could smell the ocean's saltiness.

"Removing your ponytail. You live on campus, right?"

"Sure do."

"What dorm?"

"Awesome," Shiranui said, lacking emotion.

"What?"

"That's what they call it. Dorm Awesome."

Kagerou pulled the ponytail free, toying with it in her hand to keep herself from touching Shiranui's hair again.

"I don't recall seeing a Dorm Awesome sign, anywhere on campus."

Shiranui leaned back, her head bumping against Kagerou's left shoulder, before coming to stop there, as though deciding Kagerou made for a good headrest.

"A for awesome. Dorm A."

"I see," Kagerou said, her breath hitching. "And room number?"

"Why do you need my room number? Unless... you really want to move in with me? Just say the word, and Hibiki is gone."

Kagerou tried to shake her head, but realized she couldn't with Shiranui resting on her. The position was a little awkward, but she couldn't bring herself to disrupt it.

"No," she said. "I was going to get you some fresh clothing tomorrow."

"Maybe I'll just wear your pajamas all day."

"I don't think that would go over well."

"Fine. Room eight. It's on the first floor. Try not to get killed by Hibiki. She doesn't like guests."

"Um. Can you write me a letter?"

"Huh?" Shiranui mumbled. "What kind? A love letter?"

Even in her half delirious state, Shiranui managed to make juvenile jokes. What if one day Kagerou accidentally took one seriously? It wasn't good for her heart. And even worse, what if Shiranui conversed with men the same way? A beautiful girl like herself would be irresistible to guys who spent long hours on the construction sites with nothing but other sweaty males. Tomorrow, she would need to give Shiranui a stern talking to – and not the kind that would end with them missing class and swimming in the ocean.

"I was thinking one that might pacify Hibiki," Kagerou said, after an indeterminable pause. "Help her help me help you."

For a moment, she thought Shiranui had fallen asleep in their uncomfortable position sitting on the bed. Kagerou listened to the girl's faint, rhythmic breathing.

"That's an idea. I need paper, pen, and something."

"Something to write on?"

Shiranui pulled away, sitting up straight. "Something," she nodded.

With a little reluctance, Kagerou climbed off the bed. She realized that maybe her desire to be close to Shiranui was because of the lack of physical contact she'd had in the past few months, and after today, they wouldn't have reason to stick close together anymore, and the thought upset Kagerou.

She dug through her desk drawer, finding a loose leafed page, and pen. From her bookshelf, she grabbed the largest hardcover textbook she could find. She handed the assembled items to Shiranui, who set them on her lap and began to write.

Kagerou brought the candle closer, to provide light to the page, and stood, looking down at the words in silence. She tried reading it, but found her mind sluggish. It wasn't Japanese, she realized a moment later. It took a few seconds to mentally switch to English, but she found it still made no sense.

"Um," she said.

She was afraid of interrupting Shiranui, but it was all gibberish being written on the page. She had had enough insanity for one night, and it finally clicked in her mind.

"Russian?" Kagerou asked.

Shiranui pulled pencil away from page. " _Da_. You can't read Russian?"

"Of course not. Why would I be able to?"

Shiranui ignored her and took a moment to scrawl one more line at the bottom of the page. Apparently satisfied, she handed the letter over. "Here. Hibiki will be less likely to harm you, but I still don't think she'll make you feel very welcome. Think of her as a pit bull who's very protective of her territory."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't challenge her? Don't piss in our dorm? I don't know, either, really. It took me awhile before I got on not-enemy terms with her. This letter should put her on a leash. Maybe."

Kagerou put the letter aside. She would wake up after a couple hours of rest, and visit the academy. It was close to the water, so things might have been damaged, and it was very unlikely power would be restored any time soon, so she wanted to know if classes would be cancelled.

"Hey Kagerou?"

"Yes?" Kagerou said.

"Can I have a goodnight kiss?"

"Um. What?"

Shiranui was sitting on the bed, watching her intently. " _Please_ ," she said, her eyes incandescent in the candle's light. "It'll help me sleep better."

Despite Shiranui's antics, Kagerou realized she was actually being serious. A chaste kiss on the forehead couldn't hurt, Kagerou decided. When she approached, however, Shiranui closed her eyes and lifted her chin a fraction, and Kagerou realized that it was, after all, a joke. Kagerou wanted to slap her, but instead she found her eyes drawn to Shiranui's lips.

What if she actually kissed the girl?

It would probably shock Shiranui, but maybe it would stop the influx of indecent jokes the girl made. And chances were, she could pass it off as being exhausted and not thinking straight, so they could both laugh it off – and clearly it would be true. Kagerou wasn't thinking straight.

She leaned knelt down beside Shiranui and leaned forward. She could hear as Shiranui stopped breathing, holding her breath for the moment, a steadfast commitment to the joke. Kagerou brought her hands up, wrapping them loosely around Shiranui's neck and pulling the girl in closer. Shiranui didn't resist, and their lips came ever closer.

And then Kagerou realized the absurdity of the situation.

They were both so delirious from their exhaustion – Kagerou having woken up at six am to catch the bus to the harbour – that neither girl was going to back out. Kagerou shifted course, planting her lips on Shiranui's forehead. It was a quick peck, and she pulled away just as fast, the taste of salt water on her lips. The thought of a shower had been pushed completely out of mind when they arrived at her apartment, so they were both covered in a layer of saltiness.

Disappointment flickered across Shiranui's face.

Kagerou didn't know how to react, so she didn't.

"Thank you," Shiranui said, sliding under the bed's sheets. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

* * *

 _She pulled on the combination lock, but it didn't open. After inputting the number and trying again, she double checked her locker number. Was her locker one forty one, or one fourteen? How could she forget such an important thing? The hallways were emptying out as students collected their textbooks and made their way to class, and nobody so much as gave her a second glance. It was as though she were invisible._

 _She moved to locker one fourteen, anxiety growing as the seconds ticked by. She wouldn't be late for class – she couldn't._

 _Her combination failed; the lock didn't open. A group of girls passed by her, laughing, and then the hallway was empty. Where was her locker? Time was running out. Any second now, the bell would ring and she would be late for class. She rushed back to one forty one, and tried the locks on either side. Neither opened._

 _Maybe it wasn't the wrong locker, but the wrong combination? Then what? Or what if it was both? How could she ever get to class on time? The silence of the hall was ominous, and Kagerou dropped to her knees, her mind simultaneously empty and racing through ideas._

 _The bell rang, sealing her fate. She was late._

* * *

As per usual, her biological clock woke her at seven am, despite her mind and body still being completely drained. She shut off her alarm clock, so it wouldn't wake Shiranui in half an hour, and stood up, stretching. Her hips were sore from sleeping on the floor without a mattress, and her neck had missed her usual pillow, but they were temporary inconveniences.

Kagerou could vaguely remember having a nightmare right before she woke up, and it had taken place in her middle school. Which was ridiculous. She hadn't even had a locker during middle school, and why dream about such a trivial thing? She was used to the dreams about forgetting to study for a test, or being called on by the teacher and not knowing the answer, but this had been a completely new – and decidedly uncomfortable – nightmare.

Carefully, she took a seat on her bed, next to Shiranui.

There was plenty of room on the bed, and they most certainly could have shared it. She felt a little regret, for being so prude. It took a bit of searching to find Shiranui's arm under the covers, and then she pulled it out and examined the red stained bandage. For being so tired last night, she had done reasonably well. It would need to be replaced soon, but that could be a job for the hospital, if the place wasn't overcrowded.

After confirming Shiranui's peaceful breathing, Kagerou grabbed the letter and her keys, and left the apartment. Breakfast would not be necessary; she planned on being back within the hour.

The buses weren't running, but it didn't matter because she always chose to walk, anyways.

The aftermath of the typhoon wasn't as bad as it could have been, but the town was still a mess. Puddles collected on the side roads, which weren't properly draining into the sewers, and men and woman dressed in yellow and orange reflective attire were working to unclog the sewers and clean the roads. A few trees had fallen over. One collapsed and had taken down a power line, which looked like it had started a fire and burned down a couple houses, even though it had all happened in a torrential downpour.

Garbage bags had been torn from their nettings and their contents strewn across yards and roads, and a garbage truck drove along slowly, its occupants sporting defeated looks, yet they didn't stop to assist in the cleaning effort. They had probably clocked in mere minutes ago and were still scouting the city, unaware of the full damage which had been inflicted, but slowly learning of the monumental task they had been given.

Walking the street, Kagerou was surprised at how many stores had broken windows. Most hadn't been boarded up yet, and if she had wanted to, she could have walked into the stores through their storefront displays, being careful of the broken glass on the ground. In fact, that seemed to have been exactly what happened. Looters who had taken advantage of the typhoon, while everyone else was cowering in their homes in the dark.

When Kagerou saw a particularly large puddle on her usual route, she decided to take a detour instead of testing it. It wasn't until she was passing directly in front of the store that she realized where she was. Hesitating only a moment, she stepped inside the building. A wind chime sang as she looked around the place. A man appeared from one of the aisles, a broom in hand.

"Good morning," he said. "Oh, Kagerou. What brings you in, so early in the morning?"

Armin was a tall, thin man who was balding much too early, and owned glasses but was too stubborn to ever wear them, so he walked around bumping into obstacles every second of the day. He was the owner of the gun shop, _Manual's Bullets_.

"Hi boss," she said, examining the place. "I was just in the area, so I thought I would check things out."

Armin let out a drawn out sigh. "It's alright. Some cleaning to do, but at least we're not running a pharmacy. I think every drug store between here and the city limits has been broken into."

"Looters didn't hit this place, then?"

"No. Flooding in the back though – not sure how that happened." He set the broom aside, giving her a concerned look. "You okay? You look a little roughed up."

She hadn't even showered yet. "I'm good. See you at five, then?"

"If you want the day off-"

"No. I'm good."

He hadn't made a single comment about her running late for school, which she appreciated. Usually Armin showed interest in her education, and was always flexible with her schedule. He was perhaps the most important adult in her life, and she knew she owed him a great debt – not only for hiring her in the first place, but for his continued support and keeping her busy.

Ten more minutes of walking later, she arrived at the academy.

It seemed the cleaning effort had already begun. People were roaming the fields and the shooting range had been closed for the day, a chain strewn across the road. Some people had rakes in hand, piling up leaves and broken branches, while others carried around garbage bags and were acting as mobile dumping stations, with other people picking up and depositing their garbage in the bags.

It was an organized, concerted effort that the academy had put together so quickly.

A sign at the front of the academy – two large boards of wood attached by a hinge, leaning against each other to stand on the ground – announced that all classes for the day were cancelled. Classes would resume on Tuesday.

Kagerou felt relief, perhaps more for Shiranui than herself.

It took another five minutes to find dorm A, and then room eight, and she wondered if Shiranui had lied last night when she had said it was known as dorm Awesome. It seemed a little childish.

Double checking she had the right number, Kagerou cleared her throat and knocked. She realized she was nervous, but couldn't exactly pinpoint why. Was Hibiki someone she should be afraid of? The Kantai Project wouldn't recruit a psychopath, would they?

"Who's there?" someone shouted from inside. It was a female voice with a heavy Russian accent, who sounded extremely frustrated by something.

Kagerou hesitated. "A friend of Shiranui's."

It might have been a little forward of her, to assume they were friends, but at least Shiranui wasn't around to tell her otherwise.

No response was forthcoming, and Kagerou waited, thinking maybe Hibiki was in the middle of something, possibly drying herself off after a morning shower, but after much too long without hearing anything, Kagerou knocked again. "Hello?"

"Who's there?"

"I – um... a friend of Shiranui's." She didn't want to sound like a broken record, but didn't know what else to say.

"Go away."

"But-"

"She has no friends. Either tell me who you really are, or fuck off."

"My name is Chisaka Kagerou. Shiranui and I were in detention together."

The door opened, and Hibiki poked her head out, looking down the hall in both directions. "And? What do you want?"

Kagerou fished the letter out of her pocket. It had been a good idea to have Shiranui write one. "Here. Read this."

"Is she dead?" Hibiki asked, unfolding the letter with a startling lack of concern.

"No!" Kagerou said. "Why would you even say that? That's horrible."

"So sue me," Hibiki said before falling silent as she began to read.

She looked up once or twice, giving Kagerou critical looks, and finally she sighed, handing the letter back. "Fine. She's alive. What do you want?"

"I need to pick up a change of clothes for her."

Hibiki stepped away from the door, and a short second later, Kagerou could hear the sound of a drawer opening. She was about to push the door open to see the inside of the room, when Hibiki shouted.

"You look in here and I'll have to kill you – either that or cut your tongue off and feed it to Beluga."

"Sorry," Kagerou yelped, retreating a step into the hallway.

"Let's see – socks, underwear, pants – why does she even have bras, she's as flat chested as I am. Shiranui is delusion – you tell her that, okay? Shirt, sweater. That all? Am I missing something?"

"I don't think-"

"Shut up, I wasn't talking to you."

Kagerou closed her mouth. Was there someone else in the room, or was Hibiki a bona fide lunatic?

Hibiki returned to the door, stuffing a pile of clothing into her face. "Here. Now go do whatever it is you wanted with her clothes, just get out of my face.

"Um – could I have a bag or something for it-"

"You talk too much," Hibiki growled.

She disappeared back into her dorm room, and just when Kagerou assumed she wasn't going to come back, Hibiki's hand shot out of the crack in the door, and dropped a plastic shopping bag.

"Thank you," Kagerou said, snatching it out of the air before it could fall on the ground.

The door shut with a resounding thud, in spite of the fact that it was only open a few centimeters in the first place. Kagerou stuffed the clothing in the bag and quickly retreated.

* * *

Returning to her apartment, it was an odd feeling knowing someone was already inside. Living in the place alone for so long had adjusted her to peculiar habits, such as talking and singing to herself, banging her head against the wall whenever she was annoyed, and more recently, she had altogether stopped using the lights, electing to walk around the place blind and eat at the table in the darkness.

She turned the key quietly and opened the door, mentally scolding herself for not oiling it weeks ago. It creaked, and she hoped it wouldn't wake her guest.

"I'm back," she whispered to no one in particular.

Putting the keys on the nearby shelf, she moved through the rooms until she reached her own, and nearly yelped when she peeked inside. Shiranui was awake, sitting up in bed with her head buried in Kagerou's pillow. She rubbed it on her face, like it were a towel, and then inhaled deeply, arcing her back before falling backwards onto the bed, where she sighed.

The act wasn't for Kagerou's sake, in an attempt to embarrass her, because Shiranui didn't even know she was being watched.

Did her pillow smell bad, Kagerou wondered? When was the last time she had washed it? It must have been a few days ago, even though she couldn't explicitly remember it, because there was no other reason for Shiranui to be inhaling the scent with such a wide smile on her face.

A few moments later, Shiranui abandoned the pillow, and, still not noticing Kagerou at the door, she bent down and put her head under the bed. It was time to intrude, Kagerou decided. She wouldn't judge until she had an answer.

"What are you doing?" she asked, pushing the door open wider.

Shiranui whipped her head up. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Really? Because that didn't look like nothing – it looked like you were snooping.

"Well," Shiranui grinned, "if you really must know-"

"I change my mind. I don't want to know."

"I was looking for your porn stash."

Kagerou recoiled. "Wha-what? That – that's – inappropriate – impolite!"

"Sorry," Shiranui said a moment later, diverting her eyes in a surprising display of guilt. "Bad joke."

"All your jokes are bad," Kagerou muttered, before clearing her throat. "Classes are cancelled today. We have the day off."

Shiranui recovered quickly, raising her eyebrows. "Really? I suppose that's a relief, since I wasn't planning on going."

"You would have."

Shiranui nodded towards the clock. "And be late? Once you're one minute late, you're better off not going at all."

"That's a terrible attitude."

"Why thank you."

"And that's a terrible answer. You need to go to the hospital today. I checked on the way home, and the wait was less than an hour. Go get a rabies shot, and have them redo the bandage, too. I don't think you'll need stitches though."

"A shot?" It might have been Kagerou's imagination, but she looked upset at the prospect.

"Yes. That's what I said. A shot."

The vaccine was essentially injecting a dying sample of the rabies virus by needle, and letting the body's immune system figure it out, so when the real deal showed up, it would know how to kill it.

Kagerou wanted to get the shot too, since there was no way to tell if she'd been infected until symptoms started showing up – usually months later – and by then, it would be too late. It would be an ignoble death, compared to going down while fighting the Abyssals, and besides, she didn't want to upset her parents by dying.

Shiranui sighed. "Did I wake up in Spain? Will they be asking me to participate in a trial run of weaponized tularemia after they shoot me up with the virus? I think I'll pass."

"Pass? It's not something you can pass on. Promise me you'll get the shot."

"Fine, I promise. But I'm not participating in any experimental shit they've got going on."

"Japan isn't big on biological warfare-"

"No, we've just a few hundreds thousand tons of robots and artificial intelligence."

"We do, and you're supposed to prove you're mature enough to use it. Now, enough chitchat. Here, get changed."

Kagerou threw the bag – a little more aggressively than she might normally have – and Shiranui caught it mere centimeters from her face. She opened the bag, digging around inside with a frown.

"Where did you get these?"

"I didn't. Hibiki did, and from your dresser, I would presume."

"Hibiki? You went to my dorm? How'd you know where it is?"

Kagerou sighed. "You told me. Last night. Remember?"

"Oh." Shiranui paused. "That's right, I did. I hope Hibiki didn't give you any trouble."

"No, not after I showed her the letter."

"The letter?"

"Um - you really don't remember, do you?"

Shiranui bit her lip, brows furrowed in concentration. "The letter I wrote last night?"

"Yes."

"By the way, did you read the letter?"

"It was in Russian," Kagerou said.

Shiranui nodded. "Okay. So you didn't read the letter. Do you have it, or Hibiki?"

"Does it matter?"

"No," Shiranui said, emptying the bag on the bed.

"Good. Now I'm going to make us breakfast. You can take a shower when you're done changing – towels are in the closet next to the bathroom."

* * *

Kagerou officially hated eggs. They were easy to cook, which was why it was the only decent breakfast food she had, but there were way too many ways to cook them, and everyone seemed to have their own opinions and preferences, and she didn't know which way Shiranui liked them.

Scrambled, hard-boiled – and there was soft-boiled, and probably a medium-boiled too – sunny-side up, in an omelette – did she have peppers and cheese? – and the longer she thought about the possibilities, the more difficult the choice became.

There was raw too, if she wanted to cook up some rice. Would a traditional breakfast be better? She had mentally defaulted to a western style breakfast because it was what she always had, but maybe it would offend Shiranui. Miso soup was also a possibility.

Kagerou moved to plug the rice cooker in, then stopped herself. She was being ridiculous. Shiranui could starve if she wasn't content with whatever Kagerou made. In the end, she settled on bringing a pot of water to boil on the stove.

There was more to do. Toast – white or wholewheat? What time would she need to start the toast, in order for it to be done as soon as the eggs were? What else did she have, aside from eggs and toast? Why couldn't she have sprung for some bacon? Or even sausage. She was such a cheapskate.

She mentally chastised herself. No more thinking.

What about drinks? Coffee? Milk? Orange juice? Wasn't orange juice the way to go, for a perfect breakfast? No, she didn't even have any. Did she have time to run to the store? Probably not. Milk it was, then. Or maybe tea – there was probably some tea packets stored in the depths of the cabinet – she should start digging those out, just in case. But tea wouldn't be acceptable – it would show a complete lack of understanding of food if she were to mix traditional and western style breakfasts together. Cross tea off the list.

Bread waiting in the toaster and water coming to a boil, she began pacing the kitchen. A few minutes later, she rushed for the broom in the closet, and began sweeping the ceramic tiled floor. The cleanliness of an apartment said a lot about its occupant. She was a clean person, and wouldn't let anyone believe otherwise.

Water was boiling. How many eggs? Why hadn't she asked Shiranui beforehand? She was so short-sighted. But if she was hungry enough for two, then it was a safe bet that Shiranui was, too. Four in total. She checked the time they were put in. Eight minutes to cook. She collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table, and stared at the clock.

Shiranui finished her shower and came into the kitchen just as everything was coming together. With a confidence Kagerou hadn't felt minutes ago, she set everything on the table, and they sat down.

"I don't know how hungry you are," she said, "but I made you two eggs."

"Mm, thanks," Shiranui said, cutting up her first egg.

It was with a sudden, intense feeling of awkwardness that Kagerou realized it was the first time in months that she was eating breakfast with another human being. Shiranui, too busy stuffing egg and toast into her mouth, didn't seem to notice her discomfort.

"Something wrong?" Shiranui asked. "You're staring at me."

"Um-"

"And I know I'm good looking, but you've had all day yesterday to get over the fact."

"Um. Is it any good?"

Shiranui took another bite of egg. "Is what any good?"

"I've never cooked for someone else before."

"Oh. Breakfast. It's good," she said between bites.

They continued eating in silence, Kagerou trying to focus on her own food but finding her eyes wandering to Shiranui a few too many times.

"Last night," Shiranui said, ending the quiet, "you said your parents were out?"

"Do you want another cup of milk?"

"That's a lie, isn't it?"

"There's coffee, too."

"Don't ignore me. They don't live here, do they?"

Kagerou set her fork down. "No. But it wasn't, technically, a lie. Them not living here counts as being out-"

"Fine, whatever. It's not like I never lie. So, you have this entire place all to yourself. Where are they? Do they know you're letting a hot chick sleep over?"

"Could you please refrain from being so egotistical?"

"Fine. Where are they? What kind of work do they do?"

"They – it's..."

"If you don't want to tell me, then fine. Whatever. Sorry for being nosy." She cut into her second egg, a little more viciously than she had the first. "I'm not a very good guest, am I?"

Kagerou hesitated.

"Rhetorical question. You wouldn't want to hurt my ego, now, would you?"

It was another rhetorical question, Kagerou assumed, so she remained silent, beginning her second egg.

She was the next to break the silence. "Um. Listen, I've got somewhere I need to be-"

"Where are you going? Aren't you tired? I'm probably going to be sleeping all day."

"I was going to help with the cleaning effort. They're looking for volunteers, and I think Michishio and Arashio are going to help, too."

"Hmm. Your friends."

"You're my friend too," Kagerou blurted out before she could stop herself. She might not have been able to say it otherwise.

"If that's some way of trying to make me help in the cleanup effort, then no thank you."

"That's not what I meant."

"Whatever. You need to get going, I get it. I suppose I'll head back to the academy before Hibiki gets the idea to pawn my stuff, or something."

"Go to the hospital first."

"Sure."

"Seriously."

Shiranui glared at her. "I already promised, didn't I?"

"You're right. Sorry."

They finished the rest of their meal in silence. It had a sort of finality to it that Kagerou hadn't expected, nor wanted. It felt like as soon as they left through the front door, their relationship would return to being peers; acquaintances whom didn't talk without good reason.

Shiranui had already said it. _No thank you._ She didn't want to be friends.

And maybe it was fine. Originally, Kagerou had been so concerned with Shiranui because she'd thought that Shiranui didn't have any friends, but despite appearances, she had the feeling Hibiki was a close friend, and that meant Shiranui wasn't alone, didn't it?

It would be fine to let things revert to normal. It would be appropriate.

* * *

 **A/N:** Time for the learning corner!

Don't use hydrogen peroxide to clean wounds. Historically, it was done, but there's better ways to do it now.

Tularemia was studied as a potential biological weapon in WWII by the States, Japan, and a few other countries because it is extremely virulent.

Rabies must have been terrifying back in the 19th century, when they didn't have the vaccine. According to Wikipedia, it can only be diagnosed once symptoms start appearing, but by then death is already inevitable. Not to mention the wait time between contracting the disease and when symptoms appear, which can be as long as a year.


	11. Priorities

As it turned out, the world still revolved around money.

Screening for the Kantai Project was extensive – the government couldn't afford to invest resources on a sick girl who would never be fit to command a ship. For this reason, they had had to undergo a series of physical tests at the hospital. Among which were blood tests and vaccines for many illnesses which plagued the world, and it had been with surprising ease that Shiranui had bribed her nurse to forgo the shots and falsify the results.

It was another one of the differences between herself and her parents. She had an explicable, embarrassing, inconvenient, and downright stupidly irrational fear of needles. Thinking of them made her weak, seeing them made her sick, and being stuck by them made her lightheaded, dry mouthed, and incapable of operating – if she didn't outright lose consciousness and drown in a pile of her own vomit.

So it went without saying that Shiranui would _not_ go to the hospital for a rabies shot. Instead, as soon as she left Kagerou's apartment – committing the address to memory – she returned to the academy.

Entering her dorm room, Shiranui closed the door closely behind her and locked it. It would only elicit questions if some goody two-shoes managed to peek inside, and neither her nor Hibiki wanted questions.

Her eyes immediately went to her desk, to make sure everything was still there. She immediately saw her globe, and sighed a breath of relief. Aside from her clothes, the globe and its contents were the only possessions she had brought to Kantai Academy from the orphanage. The rest of her possessions, she had given to the other children – mainly the ones who started crying when they realized she was leaving. The globe was, however, completely outdated and useless. It still showed the continents and countries in their former glory, with all their landmass accounted for and all their cities named.

It was from before the Flooding, but that was why she had kept it.

Besides, if she needed a reminder of whether or not Moldova, Hungary, or Czechoslovakia still existed – none of them did – then all she needed to do was look to the wall above her desk, where a new map of the world was pinned. It was only a few months old, and, aside from Quebec, it had accurate data on the remaining land masses all around the world. Most of it, however, was covered in blue. _Water_.

Aside from her stuff not appearing out of place, she was glad Hibiki had at least handled basic hygiene. Beluga's litter, a box layered in newspaper in one corner of the room, was clean. The pig itself wasn't in sight, though.

Hibiki was awake, sitting at her desk with pencil to paper. She appeared to be halfway through an essay, and she hardly looked up at the intrusion.

"You're back."

Shiranui lapsed into Russian, ignoring the – hopefully – feigned disappointment. "Yes. The typhoon caught us out at sea."

"Didn't you see it coming?" Hibiki said, continuing the conversation in their mother tongue.

She set her pencil aside, opting to erase an entire paragraph. When she lost her grip on the page, and ended up bending it with the eraser's pressure, she growled. A moment later, she threw the eraser aside, crumpled the page, and brushed it off the desk.

"I saw a storm," Shiranui said. "Didn't realize how bad it was, though."

She ventured forth, collapsing onto her bed and exhaling deeply.

Hibiki was an odd roommate, but contrary to what Shiranui had said to Kagerou, Hibiki wasn't a roommate she would ever give up. The girl came with difficulties, such as her insistence on hanging the hammer and sickle flag on the wall on her side of the room, her lack of patience and tendencies to violence, and how Shiranui had never seen her awake before eight am despite classes starting at eight thirty, but she was also the only person Shiranui knew who was her age and spoke fluent Russian.

After leaving Russia for Japan, Shiranui had spent years learning Japanese and English, and her Russian had fallen into neglect. Since her parents' deaths, she'd had fewer and fewer thoughts of her homeland. Two weeks ago, when she and Hibiki had become roommates, Shiranui had spoken Russian for the first time in over a year.

On the first day they had met, they had shared their stories, and quickly realized they were two very different people, despite being born in the same country. Arguments and violence were non-stop for a few days, but eventually they had both given up.

Shiranui found great comfort in having someone to speak with in Russian, and she was pretty sure Hibiki felt the same way. Some fights just weren't worth fighting.

"You're stupid," Hibiki said, taking a fresh page of paper. The way she glared at the paper, Shiranui half expected her to crumple it up immediately, before throwing it in the garbage, spitting on it, and setting it alight.

"Okay." Shiranui sat up, scrunching her nose. "Have you been smoking in here?"

"I thought you died."

"I'm not the one who set the rule," Shiranui sighed, climbing off her bed to open a window. "Unless you want to answer to the director."

"And how's she going to know? You going to tell her?"

"No. But you can sure as hell bet the RA will."

"I'll bribe her," Hibiki said with indifference.

"Amatsukaze isn't that kind of person."

"She's psycho, that's what she is. Caught me wandering the halls during the typhoon, and dragged me back to her room. Thought I was scared, and made me drink this shitty stuff-"

"Tea?"

"Like I said, shitty stuff. And then she started talking about – about – well, fuck, I don't even know, but it was boring and I couldn't escape. I think she thinks we're friends, or something weird like that."

"But if you were friends, then maybe she would overlook a little smoking?

"Oh, shit." It was clear Hibiki hadn't ever thought of the possibility. "So, like, instead of threatening her with a gun, I threaten her with friendship?"

"Wasn't exactly what I meant, but sure. Hey, Hibiki, can I ask you for some advice?"

"You can try."

'But you might not like the results,' was the unsaid addendum. Shiranui shook her head and returned to her bed to sit down. Seeking a different opinion was a good idea, but it was pretty pathetic that Hibiki was her first choice. Arare would be even worse, though, she suspected.

"There's this guy I like," Shiranui ventured.

"Alright. That's new."

"But he's really committed to his job."

"Just like how we're committed to fighting the Abyssals," Hibiki groaned.

"Yeah... something like that. Anyways, he's so committed that I'm beginning to wonder if pursuing a relationship with him is stupid."

Hibiki abandoned her paper in its entirety to turn around and glare at her. "I have a limit to my patience. You have a different ideology from me, fine, whatever. You told me you bat for the other team, and I didn't kill you in your sleep. But a Filles, now? You're taking it too fucking far, and you had better stop."

"I said it was a guy-"

"I know what you said, and I know what you wrote."

Shiranui paused. "What I wrote?"

"That girl who came by this morning. She's the one you're talking about, isn't she?"

"Just because I wrote a letter, doesn't mean-"

"'P.S. She's mine.'"

"Oh," Shiranui sighed.

"Yes, you have a way with words."

"Well, you see, I was pretty tired, so I wasn't really in my right mind."

"Then you aren't interested in her?" Hibiki said, brightening at the prospect.

"She's mine," Shiranui asserted before she could stop herself. "Look, can't you just overlook who she is? Does it really matter?"

"I'll overlook it if she kills her parents. Then she'll be an Orphan too."

"You're being a little too hardcore. Not everyone needs such a messed up childhood."

"She's not a child. None of us are."

"But don't you think it's a little childish, this segregation?"

"No. It exists for a reason. Seven girls from the Cruiser class dropped out this week. All seven of them? Fucking Filles." As if her anger wasn't clear from her facial expression and tone of voice, she snapped the pencil in her hand, dropping the pieces to the ground. "This divide wasn't created because someone decided they didn't like us, or we them. We're fundamentally different people. We've worked harder than them. We're familiar with discipline and failure – we're determined. We're more deserving of this chance. They go home every day to their parents and everything is done for them already. They don't have to wonder what they're going to eat that night, or when the next chance is that they'll be able to do their laundry or have a hot shower-"

"Stop."

"-they don't have to worry about overcrowding in the orphanage, or the cold winters and the holes in the roof, or helping pay the bills because the government's too preoccupied with making sandy fucking beaches. They're spoiled pieces of shit, unable to do anything for themselves, and dead weight to-"

"Please stop."

Hibiki was surprisingly passionate about her hatred of Filles, and hearing the words from her was harder than Shiranui expected. Not only that, but she'd been reminded of her orphanage. The past two weeks of school had been so busy she hadn't had a spare thought for all the children she'd left behind. Not to mention that she'd been their primary source of repairs, both mechanical and structural, and the hot water tank had been acting up prior to her moving into the Kantai Academy dorms. She would have to visit the orphanage, next weekend.

"Then you agree with me," Hibiki said.

"No, I don't-"

"That's unacceptable," Hibiki half shouted, standing up. "You're a fucking disgrace to us. Right, Beluga?"

"Us? Now I can't even tell if you mean the Orphans or communists. Where's Beluga?" Shiranui said, looking around the room when she didn't hear him oink affirmative, as he always did when Hibiki needed backup.

"Not here," Hibiki said, forgetting her anger as she approached the window and stared out. "He ran away during the typhoon."

Shiranui frowned. "But you were just talking to him."

"So? He's just a stupid pig. It's not like he'd understand, even if he were here."

"So, really, you're just talking to an imaginary friend now. You're a very endearing person, Hibiki."

"You do it too."

"No. I talk to myself. There's a difference."

When Hibiki didn't answer, Shiranui laid back down. There was the possibility that Hibiki had actually eaten Beluga, and just didn't want to admit it, but Shiranui didn't want to throw out any accusations, since Hibiki had been so nice as to calm herself down, rather than going for her gun. Best case scenario, her roommate was just really on edge about the essay she was writing, and tomorrow, the topic would be easier to breach.

As for herself, she just needed sleep, with dreams of Kagerou, airplanes, and bacon, rather than Abyssals, water, and death.

"Okay," Shiranui said. "I'm going to bed. Please don't kill me in my sleep?"

"No promises."

* * *

A knock at the door woke her, and she rolled over and pulled her pillow over her head. A few seconds later, another knock, more persistent.

"Shiranui, I know you're in there. Answer the door."

"Make her go away, Hibiki," Shiranui whispered.

"Not my problem."

The third knock, once started, didn't seem to end. Each word punctuated by a knock. "Don't ignore me. And Amatsukaze said she saw you come in, so don't send Hibiki either – sorry Hibiki – now open the door already!"

"Make it stop," Shiranui said, pulling her pillow tighter against her ears.

The quiet last only a second, before the pillow was ruthlessly torn away and thrown on the ground. Hibiki was standing above her, glaring down. "Go, before I answer with a gun in hand."

Shiranui groaned, dragging herself out of bed and to the door, kicking her pillow back to her bed on her way. She could hear her bed – the soft, sensual pleas, begging for Shiranui's skin against its fabric. It definitely wasn't the other way around.

Opening the door, light from the hallway flooding into the room, making her squint.

"Shiranui!"

Shiranui stumbled back as Arare burst into the room.

"I – am – mad!" Each word was enunciated so clearly that Shiranui knew it wouldn't be something she could simply brush aside with a joke.

"And I – am – sleeping. Or, at least trying to. It doesn't instill any confidence in me, for that to be the first thing to come out of your mouth. A 'welcome back', might do better."

Except Arare wasn't one for pleasantries. She was a worker at heart – something anyone would realize that if they got even one look at her.

Wearing a buttoned up white collared shirt with a pen tucked snugly in the chest pocket, she looked like a business woman ready for a day of work at the office. Hazel brown eyes were framed by square glasses, which gave her a nerdy look, but also made her look years older than she was. Her glasses did nothing for her height, unfortunately, so while she looked mature, she was also one of the smallest students in the entire school. Arare's short black hair was wet and shining in the light, and it was evident that she had rushed out of the shower just to confront Shiranui.

"Shiranui, it's about time you're back. I've been looking all over for you. Where were you during the typhoon?"

"I was busy being an idiot," Shiranui said, her grogginess finally gone. "What's up?"

"What do you mean 'what's up'? Do you realize how much damage the typhoon did to our research? We've lost all our hydrometers and thermometers on the west coast."

"All of them?" She tried to do a mental count of them all, and ended up with too many. "Damn."

"These aren't things that can be store bought."

"I know." Shiranui paused, trying to figure out how to handle her next words as diplomatically as possible. "Listen, Arare, where does most of the data we've already collected to point?"

"Challenger Deep-"

"Some kind of anomaly there, right?"

"Yes-"

"And the time required to set everything back up would be days. Calibration isn't something we can just do all on a Sunday, and the Kantai Project isn't going to slow down for us."

"Then we take two Sundays-"

"And these instruments, like you said, we can't just buy them off the open market. Unless your parents just so happened to have another warehouse full of them, where exactly are we going to be finding them?"

"We can ask Ulaan-"

"We have no data to trade, anymore. They won't be interested."

"We still have sources within Japan, then! I think Suzuya, or – or-"

"Or what? Even if we find someone who'll sell them, what about the money? I'm pretty sure we're both dirt poor right now, unless you've come across some kind of inheritance?"

"What exactly are you trying to say, Shiranui? All these excuses, it's almost like-"

"And really, even if we do spend the money to buy more instruments, it'll just point us to the Mariana Trench again, right?"

"Most likely-"

"So then why? Why bother?"

"I don't understand," Arare said slowly.

"I'm focusing on the present. I don't need more data. No one does."

"We always need more data," Arare said, crossing her arms. Her tone hinted towards anger, as though she was only just realizing Shiranui was bailing on her and the project. "Can you imagine how much easier this would be, if they started logging oceanic data in the nineteenth century? We're struggling, because we don't have enough information, and if we stop collecting it now, because we don't think we need it, then history will just keep repeating itself! We would seem so foolish, to the people in the twenty first century, if we don't keep doing our jobs at this very moment. We're giving our future the data they need to do their work, and they'll be grateful for it!"

"You're so sure there will be a future for humans-"

"Of course there will be! We're worse than cockroaches."

 _Humans are damn persistent. We'll keep bashing our heads against a wall until it falls, if there's something we want on the other side._

Why was Shiranui suddenly on the opposing side of the argument? It hadn't simply been false bravado, talking to the Abyssal. It was, truly, what she believed. Maybe only a million would survive, or a hundred thousand, or only tens of thousands, but civilization wouldn't collapse because of some aliens and water. Or even a lot of aliens, and a lot of water.

"I'm re-prioritizing," Shiranui said, hating the sounds of the words. "The Flooding has all but stopped. We've had three centimeters in the past month, and it's only going to slow down even more. Until we have the means to reach Challenger Deep, there's nothing more to do."

Arare turned to Hibiki, who was watching from her desk. There would be no support there, Shiranui knew. After a moment, Arare shook her head and stepped out of their room.

"Fine, quit on me," she said. "Quit on all of us. But I won't stop. I'm going to set it back up, and keep trading data with Ulaan. And when you realize your foolishness, at least you'll still have something to return to."

The door closed, and the room returned to its partial darkness, the only light being from the lamp on Hibiki's desk. Shiranui stood in the dark for a moment, before reluctantly turning around. The beginning of a headache was forming, and it was probably because she'd been interrupted before even getting in an hour of sleep.

"You're serious about what's-her-name," Hibiki said suddenly. "The Filles."

"I'm sorry, did I not make that clear, earlier?" Shiranui said, returning to her bed, fluffing her pillow, and then sitting down.

Hibiki spent a second crumpling the paper on her desk before throwing it in the garbage. "Fine. I'll offer my help."

The sudden change of mind was unexpected, but Shiranui welcomed it. "So, then, what do you think I should do?"

"Abyssals could attack and kill us all tomorrow. Don't hesitate. Wait until the two of you are alone, and then tell her you want to fuck her."

Shiranui frowned. "Would that work? No – wait a second. That's not socially acceptable, Hibiki. And it would probably scare her off. I need to treat her like a deer."

"Shoot her with a compound bow?"

"You said you would help."

"If you only hit her leg, she won't be able to run-"

Shiranui's glare, to her surprise, effectively cut Hibiki off. Maybe she really did want to help, but wasn't very good at it?

"Fine," Hibiki sighed. "You want something romantic? Cook her a meal. Girls like guys who can cook."

"I can't cook. Besides, I'm a girl."

Hibiki shrugged. "Do girls like girls who can cook?"

Kagerou could cook, and it had made Shiranui fall for her a little more, so yes.

"I really don't think it would be that easy," Shiranui said slowly.

"She early riser, like you are?"

"Yeah," Shiranui said.

The only reason she knew that was because the first time she had seen Kagerou was when she'd been out on a morning run. Kagerou hadn't noticed her, and it was probably a good thing, because Shiranui forgot to watch where she was running, and tripped on the curb, scratching her knees on the cement, and had to limp all the way back to campus, like a complete idiot.

"Take her to the ocean lookout in the morning, and watch the sunrise together," Hibiki said. "That's romantic, no? And then, when she's distracted by the horizon, slip your hand down her pants."

"Can you please get our genders right? She's not a guy, so I don't think it would be that easy. Besides, it's not like all I want is sex-"

Hibiki raised her eyebrows.

"I'm serious, here. I want a real, normal relationship."

"Doesn't matter what you want. You need to try, before one of you die."

"Ever the optimist."

"We're in the middle of a fucking war. You want normal, then you'll be disappointed. I think the majority of us have given up, or are waiting until the end of the war. Though in our case, it's because most men won't be interested in a woman who'd never actually be around, and who'd be fired immediately for getting knocked up."

"I can't wait until the end of the war. That's insane. I'll be seeing her almost every day, and I don't have that much willpower. And what if someone else scoops her up while I'm waiting?"

"I never said you should do like the rest of us. You're already messed up. Stay near her and you'll find plenty of opportunities. Just don't let anyone get close to her."

Shiranui nodded slowly. "Easier said than done, though. I mean, have you seen her?"

"Try growling or something at anyone who tries to make a move on her."

"Growl? Well, that's not a bad idea. Growling is intimidating," Shiranui said, remembering the run in with wolves she had earlier that morning. "Anyways, thanks for the advice. I think I'll catch some sleep now, before something else happens."

Since she wasn't in her pajamas, and she didn't want to change – it was midday, after all – she rolled onto her bed, atop her sheets, and closed her eyes. The dorm was warm, and it would probably stay warm all year round, unlike her previous room, where the body heat of all the children acted as the heater.

Those were the differences, the things she no longer had to worry about.

Yet somehow, as she pulled her pillow tight against her ears to drown out the sounds of Hibiki's fight with her essay, Shiranui found herself feeling unhappy. It was tantamount to betraying her younger self, changing priorities like this. Suddenly, it was the war, Kagerou, and then the water.

Only time would tell if she'd regret listening to her own desires.

* * *

 **A/N:** And this wraps up the first arc. Shiranui and Kagerou will remain as the primary protagonists, but the next two arcs will visit other pairings (and further the plot) before things really get underway. They may be very different from this arc, as I experiment and try to keep the relationships as interesting/unique as possible.

Also, for those who recall 'Whale' from last chapter, he's been renamed 'Beluga', which is more fitting because it's a word derived from Russian.


	12. ARC 2 - Thief

Her mother was hunched over the newspaper, idly tapping the print, her coffee in hand wholly forgotten. It was an easily recognizable state of mind, and it scared Yahagi.

"You're retired, mom," she said, rushing over and nearly spilling her own coffee. She set it aside and pulled the newspaper from her mother's grasp. "Do we really need to hide the newspapers from you?"

Her mother looked up with a weak smile. "I didn't do anything."

"I know what you were thinking."

"What was I thinking?"

Yahagi eyed the paper. "Copy-cat thief Nezumi strikes again," she read aloud. "Four thefts in three weeks. Six hundred Ryo worth of gold coins stolen, a single Koban left behind at the scene of the crime, and no leads... You want to catch him, don't you?"

"It might be a 'her'."

"My point still stands."

Her mother sighed, banging a fist on the table. "Of course I do! It's not a habit I can crush in a matter of weeks."

"Months."

"Weeks, months, years. The task force is floundering with this case. If I just dropped by, gave them some words of advice, maybe looked around the warehouse-"

"No," Yahagi said. "We both know how you are with cases. It took me forever to wrap up your old ones, and now you want to get hooked on another? I swear, this is worse than drugs."

"No it isn't," her mother protested.

Yahagi's father entered the room, scratching his freshly shaved chin and immediately beelining for the coffee pot. "Solving cases? Don't make us hold an intervention, Hara, dear."

"That won't be necessary," her mother said. "We'll just let this thief embarrass the force and steal what little remains of Japan's history."

"Mom," Yahagi started, all the while knowing this was probably what she had been aiming for in the first place. "I can't make any promises – I don't know what the workload is going to be like, but I'll look into it when I get a chance."

Her mother smiled, motioning with open arms. Yahagi leaned forward to give her a quick hug, while her father took the opportunity to snatch the newspaper away.

"Thank you, dear," her mother said. "Are you all packed and ready to go?"

"Yes, mom. I have been for hours."

"Are you sure you didn't want your father to drive you?"

"She's afraid of being thrown into the wrong clique," her father said without looking up from the newspaper.

Yahagi looked to the floor. "That's not how it is. You both saw the article in the paper last year, and you heard what the recruiter said. I'm just trying to avoid conflict. It's a really tense environment."

"Your peers will feel betrayed, if they find out the truth," her mother said. "It's not too late, we can give you some money to rent an apartment. No need to hide your social standing, or any of that nonsense."

Yahagi shook her head. "You've already paid the down payment for the dorms. I'll stay there."

"The down payment doesn't matter. It wasn't much at all. If you want an apartment, just say so."

"No, mom."

"Alright, dear. You contact us by telephone, if you ever need anything. Is fifty thousand yen enough? We'll send you more next month."

"It's enough. Plenty. Probably too much. I'll make sure to keep in touch, don't worry."

"You haven't forgotten any of the necessities when you were packing? Deodorant, pads, condoms-"

"Mom! It's an all-girls school."

"Oh, that's right. I think I recall you mentioning something like that. Remember, though, dear, sexually transmitted diseases can still be spread between two woman-"

"Mom, I'm not gay."

"You're a teenager. Even I went through an experimental phase at your age."

"Too much information!" Yahagi shouted, retreating out of the room.

She walked the halls of the house. They were new, still unfamiliar. The wooden tiled floor, the freshly painted walls, and then her door, lacking the posters from her childhood house, which was now occupied by fish and seaweed.

Inside her room, she looked around. She never had finished unpacking, before the Kantai Project selected her, so most of her possessions had been shipped to the dorms ahead of time, and only a few boxes remained, piled in a corner of the room.

A bookshelf, freshly made out of solid oak – a rarity, nowadays – was empty and gathering dust. It saddened her to know she would probably never be able to use it. It had been a present from her parents, for her nineteenth birthday, and she loved it. But now, she would take her purse, and jump onto a bus north for her second move in a week, with only her anticipation to keep her company.

She opened one of her remaining book boxes, and pulled out a mystery novel. Reading the title, she verified she couldn't remember the 'who-done-it', and then collapsed onto her bed, opening the book and inhaling the scent of the old pages. With two hours left before she had to leave, there possibly wasn't any better way to spend it.

* * *

Since the Flooding, crime was much more prevalent in most countries. Japan hadn't been thrown into chaos nearly as bad as some other places, so crime hadn't become an epidemic, though it was decided that criminals needed to be treated differently. This resulted in penal colonies.

Even before the Flooding, Japan was an archipelago, so it didn't take much effort to designate certain islands to be labour camps – or, as more commonly referred to, prison farms. A 'prison farm' was a very general term, and it could range from logging, mining, farming actual food, to less physically demanding tasks, such as transcribing documents, sewing, or menial assembly line work. There were sixteen of these penal colonies, surrounding the main island, and their work was a great boon to Japan's economy.

It was job security, too, for those who were willing. A decent number of criminals elected to stay in the colony, after their time expired, because they had no family to worry about and they appreciated the safety afforded by the colony, which in itself had almost no crime, thanks to the zero-tolerance policies put in place.

But sometimes there were people who weren't willing to do the work, or who were too far gone to deserve the opportunity. These kinds of people were split into two groups. A real prison wasn't practical, because it was too costly on resources. Instead, most criminals were executed. Universal compassion was a thing of the past, the emperor had said. It was reserved for only the deserving, now. There were innocent families starving, struggling to get by day-to-day, and that was where the food reserves would go – not to the one who murdered the family's neighbours.

There was one last type of criminal: the special exceptions, who didn't deserve the liberation of death, or had some value in being kept alive. They went to Japan's only genuine prison. South-west of Sapporo, Yoichi prison was a sprawling complex, built entirely within a mountain. The public wasn't allowed access to the area, so nobody really knew the living conditions of the prisoners locked within Mount Yoichi, but a few rumours escaped, from transferred and retired prison guards. It wasn't pleasant, to put their words lightly.

The thief Yahagi had told her mother she would go after was named Nezumi, by the media, and Yahagi desperately wanted Nezumi to be sent to Yoichi, for being such a blight on humanity. People were struggling to survive, and those who resorted to crimes only made life harder for everyone else. Unfortunately, Nezumi would probably just be sent to one of the nearby penal colonies and completely forgotten about, when he was caught.

* * *

Yahagi got off the bus at Gero. It was a little ways off of the path from the capital to Kantai Academy, but she wanted to see the scene of the most recent theft. It might have been an instinct she'd learned from her mother, but there was no better way of starting an investigation than visiting the most recent place of activity.

Harbour six, the place where the theft occurred, was already back to running at full capacity, as if nothing had ever occurred. The police couldn't cordon off the area for too long, since cargo still had to come and go, and there had been no evidence found, besides the single Koban and a few shoeprints in the dirt outside the row of warehouses.

Entering the warehouse in question, Yahagi completed a full circuit of the place.

Nobody else was present – most workers were at the ports, loading ships or waiting for more to come in – so she was able to examine the place in peace. It was a relatively new warehouse, only erected within the past year, so it was relatively clean. There were lots of petroleum barrels, a few oil spills marring the cement, but otherwise very little to see.

Nezumi was adept at lock picking, but the report indicated only half of the total gold was stolen. Either he couldn't carry it all – indicating he wasn't very strong – or he had no need to take every last piece.

A shiny object on the ground caught her attention, and she bent over to examine it, frowning. How had she missed it on her first lap of the place? And better yet, how had the police missed it?

She knelt down and picked the object up. Six spikes protruded from a single center point, reminding her of a jack. Years ago, she had seen some kids play it in the schoolyard, but she'd never played it before. The only inconsistency here was that the ends were actually pointed, rather than having knobs affixed to them. It wasn't suitable for a kid to play with, nor should it have been laying around in a warehouse.

Before she could stand up, a foot planted itself on her back and knocked her forward. Sprawling, she brought her hands up just in time to prevent smashing her chin into the cement. The skin of her palms scraped on cement, and she might have swore or cried out, but instincts took over, and she rolled away from her attacker. Without a weapon on hand, she could only hope there would be no follow up attack.

"The boys in blue have moved on, so what exactly is a girl like you still doing here?"

Yahagi turned around, slowly climbing to her feet.

Standing across from her was someone dressed in an over-sized brown jacket. Not much taller than Yahagi, the man made every effort to hide his true appearance. He wore heavy duty boots and black gloves, and his face was obscured by a balaclava, revealing only his eyes, mouth, and the skin of his neck. He had his hands on his pocket, probably gripped on a gun, and he even had the hood pulled up, like he was hiding from a heavy rain.

"Nezumi," Yahagi whispered.

"You know me." He knelt down, never taking his eyes off of her, and grabbed the metal jack, slipping it into his pocket. "So, who are you?"

"I'm the one who's going to arrest you."

The man laughed. "I see no gun. I see no badge. I see no handcuffs."

The laugh was odd. It somehow didn't sound as Yahagi expected it would, coming from a mysterious thief. The same went for his voice - there was an obvious effort put into distorting it. His neck, too, was wrong. It was thin, and no Adam's apple was visible. Yahagi met his eyes, challenging them, and he didn't look away. She had never been very good at cold reading, and without any other facial expressions, she couldn't guess at Nezumi's mood.

Still, there was something there. A conclusion, she could make. Wearing such large, baggy clothing and hiding his face with a hood and balaclava would make sense, if he wanted to hide his true build.

And then Yahagi settled on a decision. Meeting the thief was an amazing opportunity, so she would try everything she could to gain an advantage, and that advantage would start with the girlish laugh she had just heard.

"You're female," Yahagi said.

Nezumi pulled her hands out of her pockets. No gun, but it was hardly a consolation. Two knifes were pointed at her. Yahagi retreated a few steps, nearly stumbling over her feet in her haste to create more distance while still keeping a close watch on the thief.

"Tch. You're an inconvenience."

"You're not denying it. You're a girl."

"Move and you're dead," Nezumi said, approaching her.

It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and Yahagi froze, letting Nezumi close the gap between them again. When the thief moved to circle around behind her, she didn't even dare turn her head to follow the action.

The only good news was that Nezumi seemed upset that her gender was found out. If she hadn't seemed upset, then it would probably because she had already found a solution to the problem – namely, murder.

Being weaponless, Yahagi wouldn't be making any arrest, but if she listened, she would get out of the situation alive, and be able to exact her revenge later.

"On your knees," Nezumi said, her voice surprisingly close.

She dropped to her knees. Nezumi was a thief, not a murderer.

Yahagi flinched. It was involuntarily, a small jerk, prompted by a hot breath on her neck. The smell of alcohol surprised her, and for a moment she pitied the woman. A thieving drunk. A drunk who stole to support their drinking habits.

A hand wrapped around her, and the next feeling was cold – the feeling of death, pressed against her neck. She didn't dare swallow. Nezumi did _not_ want to kill her, she told herself.

"Who are you?" Nezumi said.

"I told you. The one who's going to arrest you."

In reality, she had no authority. She was a fresh graduate from a prestigious high school in the capital, and her intention had been to join the police force – inspired from a combination of her mother and years of reading crime and mystery novels – but the government had gotten to her first.

She hadn't thought much of it, but a week before her final exams, a government representative visited the school, giving all the students aged sixteen and above a special test. The woman, very businesslike and professional, said they were scouting for special talent. Nobody knew what it meant, but it had created gossip unlike any she'd ever experienced.

As far as she was aware, she was the only one from her school who had been contacted again. Shortly after her exams finished, yet before she could get her foot in the door with the local police force, the very same woman had come knocking on her family's door. She had introduced herself as Vice Admiral Katori of the Imperial Japanese Navy. Yahagi had scored in the top first percentile, a fact which surprised her as much as her parents.

She had been offered enrollment into a new program, called the Kantai Project, where she would be trained to fight against the Abyssals. The offer wasn't as easy to accept as she had expected. Switching to the navy would be akin to abandoning the career she'd always dreamed of, and she would no longer be following in her mother's footsteps.

Ultimately, though, she had realized one thing. Abyssals made the criminals. The source of the crimes were from the living standards that had been created by the Abyssals, so fighting them would be going to the source of the problem.

If she really did arrest Nezumi, it would be unofficial, and she would pass the criminal off to her friends on the police force.

"You give me your name – your real one – and I don't kill you," Nezumi said. "You don't tell anyone about this meeting or any of your discoveries, and I don't kill you. You don't get in my way ever again, and I don't kill you. Simple enough? Nod if you understand."

Again, the words were hard to see as a threat, so much as a promise. Nezumi didn't want to kill.

The pressure from her neck receded, the cold metal gone, and she inhaled shakily, before nodding.

"Now, name."

"Yahagi Yamane."

She heard Nezumi's breath catch. "Yamane? You're descendant of-" She clicked her tongue, and pulled away. "If you lied, I'm going to hunt you down and kill you."

Nezumi moved around to her front, and began walking around the warehouse. As though blind, she kept her hands out in front of her, moving them constantly. A moment later, she wrapped one hand into a fist, and pulled down.

It had grasped a thread – an invisible rope – and Yahagi looked up just in time to see what it was connected to begin to fall. A brown bag, no larger than football, fell from where it hung in the rafters. Nezumi made no move to catch it, instead letting it fall on the ground with a thud before picking it up.

"That's-"

Nezumi tossed the bag up, caught it, and shook it. The jingle of coins – gold coins – was audible.

"I didn't have time to take it with me last night," Nezumi said. "Was busy. Yahagi. I like the name. Hand out, palm up."

She obeyed. The lower half of her palm was bleeding, skin grazed from when she'd been kicked forward, but she ignored the stinging. Nezumi approached, putting something in her hand. For a second, she thought it was a koban – an oval shaped gold coin – from the bag, but then Nezumi pulled her hand away, and Yahagi saw the jack resting in her palm.

"If I see you again, it'll cost you. You've been warned."

Yahagi waited until Nezumi left, before standing up. She was shaking a little, but her mind was working hard. The amount of information she had just earned on Nezumi was incredible. Chances of catching the thief had skyrocketed in the past few minutes.

She examined the jack in her hand. A token, of their first meeting. Nezumi had won, but Yahagi hadn't been prepared. It would be different, next time.

* * *

The bus drove off, and she didn't waste any time lingering to appreciate the well cared for entrance to Kantai Academy. Carrying her purse, with only a modest amount of money and a few papers relating to the Kantai Project and academy, Yahagi walked down the sidewalks of the academy. Behind her, she could hear the cracks of guns being fired at the range, and in front of her, there were a few students milling about between buildings.

It was the Sunday before classes began, and all the new students living in dorms were moving in, preparing for the busy weeks that would soon follow. Some were walking around aimlessly, trying to learn the lay of the land, but most had boxes or bags in hand.

Yahagi should have been in the preparation mindset, but she was still dwelling on what had happened at the warehouse. Nezumi hadn't completed the job on the first night, and had to return to collect her hidden loot, which the police officers had missed when they check the scene of the crime.

The same thing could have happened on her three prior thefts, but something told Yahagi it was a first time thing. Something had interrupted Nezumi last night, and she had been quick enough to rig a fishing line to suspend the bag from the rafters. Or perhaps she hadn't been interrupted, and it had been her plan all along? The bag wouldn't have been particularly heavy or inconvenient to take with her, so why did she leave it?

"Excuse me!" a voice called out.

Yahagi turned to see a girl running towards her, arms waving.

"Yes?" Yahagi said, and pushing the matter out of mind.

The girl took a moment to catch her breath. "Are – are you by any chance in one of the Cruiser classes?"

"I am," Yahagi said, frowning. She didn't exactly know what it meant, but she had been designated Light Cruiser class. Had everyone already been assigned a specialization? The navy was efficient, getting things decided so early in the process.

"Really? Are you really?"

It wasn't something to joke about, Yahagi thought. Her eyes settled on a wooden box wrapped in the girl's arms. It was crudely made, with a large crack between the sides and lid despite being latched closed, and the nails at the edges weren't properly driven in. On the sides of the box, wood-burned stick figures were in the middle of kicking a circle – probably meant to be a soccer ball – around. The most detail put into the figures were their hair, and the largest one had a mess of short hair, which Yahagi couldn't help but realize matched the girl's own hair.

"Yes, really," Yahagi finally said. "Why?"

"Oh, thank god. Finally. I've been asking around forever – I didn't realize there were so many different classes. It's all a little confusing."

Yahagi nodded. She didn't know all the different classes, either.

"Anyways, I lost my map. I was so busy last night preparing and saying goodbye to everyone and I thought I had already placed it in my bag but now I'm thinking I might have somehow left it behind. It might have fallen under my bed or something, I really don't know-"

The girl needed reassurance, and Yahagi patted her shoulder. "I get it, I get it. You're looking for someplace?"

"Cool Dorm."

Yahagi raised an eyebrow. The recruiter had forewarned her of the dorm nicknames, but she had assumed they were only used by the senior students. Not to mention, the place wasn't hard to find. In fact, from where they stood, she could see the signpost down the road. She nodded.

"That's where I'm heading. Let's go."

"Oh, thank you! I'm Sakawa, by the way."

"Yahagi."

"Yahagi, huh? Nice to meet you. I'd shake your hand, but mine are kinda full right now. Are you in the light cruiser class or heavy cruiser class?"

"Light."

"Same! Maybe we'll be roommates."

"Room twenty two?"

Sakawa deflated a little. "Twenty one."

"Neighbours. It's still pretty close."

"Yeah. I've heard from second years that the competition is pretty rough, but let's be friends, okay?"

"Sure." She was already off to a better start than high school.

* * *

Sakawa, whatever her grades on the entrance tests had been, didn't seem to be a very organized person.

"My keys are missing," she said after fruitlessly searching her pockets and purse.

The two of them were on the second floor of the dorm building, standing outside room twenty one. Yahagi shifted uncomfortably in spot, looking down the corridor. If not for Sakawa's unending stream of questions during their short walk to the dorm, it might have been easier to extend the offer, but in the interest of making friends, she wouldn't let the opportunity go to waste.

"Relax, Sakawa," she said. "I don't know if my roommate is in yet, but for now why don't you come to my room? You can keep your box there, and wait for your roommate to get here."

"You're a lifesaver!" Sakawa said, abandoning the search for her keys and picking her box up again, taking the few steps necessary to arrive at Yahagi's door.

With a little apprehension, Yahagi opened the door with her key and peered inside.

"It's empty," she said a moment later. "Come in."

For what used to be a university dorm building, the rooms were very spacious. Each room had two of every piece of furniture and was connected to a small bathroom, though they had no kitchen.

The kitchens were to be shared among the entire floor, with one on each end. Yahagi estimated there would be ten students to a kitchen by the time everyone had finished filling in, which made for what would be a very busy place. Already, she'd been planning to purchase a microwave for her room.

Yahagi had had a few boxes shipped to the academy earlier that week, and they were sitting in the middle of the room, waiting to be unpacked. They mostly contained clothing, which she now realized would make her stand out too much among the school crowd, but there were also books, cooking ware, her desk lamp – unnecessary, as the desks already had lamps – and other possessions of hers which she hadn't want to go without. Thankfully, Sakawa didn't realize they belonged to her, and she passed them without a second glance, carefully setting her own box on the floor next to one of the beds.

"Have you gotten your monthly allowance yet?" Sakawa said, sitting on the bed with a bounce.

"No."

It was the truth, but it also happened to be the truth that she wouldn't ever get it, because she wasn't an Orphan in the first place. Yahagi quickly decided the only way to counter Sakawa's curiousness was by bombarding her with questions, and keeping her on the defensive. Besides, people liked talking about themselves.

"What about you?" Yahagi said.

Sakawa shook her head. "I want to wait until I move in, so I have somewhere safe to keep it."

"That's probably a smart thing to do." Yahagi looked around the room. She had arrived before her roommate, so it was her decision which bed to choose, but it seemed her friend had already made the decision for her. "Do you know what you're going to spend it on?"

"Do you really need to ask that?" Sakawa laughed. "Third Street Bar is going to be such a money pit."

Yahagi stiffened. "Alcohol?"

"Yeah. Apparently they don't care about the drinking age, and no copper is going to arrest us for drinking. That, and it's the closest bar to the academy, so pretty much everyone will be drinking there."

"I see. What's with the box you've been carrying around?"

"The kids back at the orphanage made it for me." Sakawa bent down, pointing to the short-haired stick figure. "See? That's me. Not too flattering, but Ken never was much of an artist." She wiggled the lid, showing how loosely it was attached to the rest of the box. "It's the thought that counts, y'know?"

"I'm sorry."

"Why're you apologizing?"

"I – uh – I don't know." She had better quickly get used to being surrounded by Orphans, or she would have much more explaining to do.

"I'm not the type to get homesick. And they're tough. I bet next time I see them, they won't even remember who I am." Sakawa slapped the top of her box with a grin. "Hey, what're all these other boxes doing here? Yours, or your roommates?"

Yahagi dragged one of the boxes closer – which she knew contained a bunch of old books – and decided she would take a chance. "Mine. Books, mostly."

Sakawa leaned back on the bed, kicking up her legs like she was exercising. She had quickly made herself at home. "Books, huh? I never really got into them. Oh, but there was that one – the last great book from United Kingdom, they called it. Brave New World."

"I've read that one. I have that one." It was in the very box she had just opened. Fishing it out, she examined the cover for a moment before tossing it to Sakawa, who caught it with a grin.

"Hot damn," she said with a whistle, cracking the book open. Even though she'd opened to a random page, it looked like she'd been instantly absorbed into its words.

Kantai Academy, despite using a pre-existing campus, was a new school. It had been created a year ago, so they had modern standards. That meant that, unlike many other places of education on the island, their dress code was slack, leaving students the opportunity to express themselves as they desired. The school did provide a uniform, but it was only required to be worn during certain times of certain weeks – the exam weeks, mainly – but since many students were Orphans, it became their best piece of clothing in their collection, so they wore it on a regular basis.

As were a few students she'd seen outside, Sakawa was wearing hers. It varied depending on the class, and the Light Cruiser class had short, red skirts. Sakawa seemed to be unaware of how short they actually were, because every time she kicked up a leg, her blue panties became visible. It made conversation a little difficult, because Yahagi couldn't bring herself to point it out, nor could she try to turn around to make eye contact with the person she was speaking to.

As a solution, she kept busy unpacking her boxes, content to let Sakawa read. Not necessarily putting the items where they belonged, Yahagi examined them and sorted them into piles.

"I sometimes wonder," Sakawa said, a few turned pages later.

Yahagi waited a moment, and then realized she needed to prompt the girl, who'd already gotten lost back in the pages of the book.

"What do you wonder?" she said.

"If this world and that world – if it would be better, if they were switched."

It took Yahagi a moment to understand. "You want to live in – no. _No_."

"No?" Sakawa said, slamming the book closed and tossing it aside. "You're right, that was just a silly thought. There's Abyssals to kill in this world. Wouldn't give that up for anything. Now, what other books do you have?"

Yahagi pulled another book out of the box, made sure it wasn't similar to Brave New World, and then threw it. "Catch."

Sakawa snapped it out of the air with surprising agility. "Crime?" she said, reading the title.

"I like to keep my mind active."

"We aren't going to be hunting criminals, you know. We're here to kill Abyssals."

Hearing her state the fact so honestly was a little disconcerting, almost as if she didn't value life. No – Yahagi corrected herself. It was likely that Sakawa had lost someone close, and it was vengeance that made her speak so casually. There would be a few students like that, at the academy.

"Are Abyssals not criminals?" Yahagi asked, more to keep a conversation than anything else.

"Uh."

"War criminals, according to the Hague Convention of 1907. There was no declaration of war."

"Maybe they wanted a surprise attack."

"Yeah, that's the general consensus."

"Hague Convention of 1907," Sakawa repeated. "You sure know your stuff."

"I'm just repeating what my parents said."

"Ah. Well, your parents sure were smart people."

 _Are_.

Her father had attended the Hague Convention, although it was as a young soldier whose squad had been chosen to protect the place. It wasn't a fact she wanted to reveal, though. It would feel too much like bragging, and she didn't want to talk about her parents any longer, or she would be forced to lie to keep Sakawa from knowing her parents were alive and well. Instead, she settled for a shrug.

"Sooo," Sakawa said. "What have you heard about the Kantai Project – and I mean the interesting stuff, not the spiel that the recruiter told you."

"What else could I have heard? Unless I went snooping-"

"I did no such thing," Sakawa proclaimed.

"I never accused you."

"That's good."

"So. What have you heard, then?"

Sakawa leaned forward conspiratorially. "They got some real smart people teaching here, and supposedly high ranking people from the navy, too. Unfortunately, they're mostly woman. Things really have changed, in the past few decades."

There was no scientific evidence of it, but people said that the Abyssals had a siren-like quality to them, making men hesitate to pull the trigger when it really counted. The process had been slow, but eventually women began ranking high as the men retired or died in the line of duty. That was one of the reasons the Kantai Project focused solely on females.

"They have," Yahagi agreed. "It sounds surreal, that in a year and a half I could be commanding a cruiser."

Sakawa nodded. "They're massive. Even the smaller destroyers are thousands of tons. Hopefully by the time we graduate they'll have developed real firepower that can give the Abyssals a hurting. The war isn't going to be won like this."

"Probably not," Yahagi said.

"It's a shame we can't coordinate with the Mongols and Soviets. Give 'em the old one-two-three punch."

That was one more punch than the idiom used, but maybe it was necessary to beat the aliens.

Sakawa seemed to have pumped herself up, because she began punching the air. "And if the Americans joined in too."

The room's door swung open. "Those fuckers won't do anything until an Abyssal pisses on their toes."

Sakawa stopped punching the air. "Your roommate?" she ventured.

Yahagi stood up, dreading a confirmation.

"Yahagi," the newly arrived girl said, eyes locking onto her. "I'm officially your roommate."

In a world not plagued by Abyssals, the girl might have been a model for a famous magazine. Her hair was long and straight, with a braided part in the middle, and the dark brown didn't seem to have a lock out of place. When the girl tilted her head at a certain angle, it even shone in the light. Her eyes were a pale, sky blue that contrasted with her hair in a way that enhanced her beauty and helped her stand out from any other brunette that Yahagi had ever seen before.

She wore a shirt that clung tightly to her skin and was short enough to reveal the skin below her bellybutton. From what Yahagi could see, there was little doubt that the rest of her body was in similar, perfect form. The shirt was sleeveless, and the girl stood with her hands on her hips, in a challenging posture - perhaps expecting someone to defend the Americans - and Yahagi realized her gaze was somehow attracted to the girl's armpits.

Yahagi hadn't ever realized it before, but a woman's armpit was extremely alluring. It was a silly thought to have, considering earlier in the day she had told her mom she wasn't gay, and she had never even had impure thoughts about another girl before. But now, since she'd already had the thought, she found herself admiring her new roommate.

"Uh – do I know you?" Yahagi said, when Sakawa not-so-subtly kicked her.

"No," the girl said, laughing loudly. "I was actually handed a list of students and told to pick who I wanted to room with."

"And you picked me? Why?"

"I liked your name? I liked your hair? I dunno. It didn't really matter to me all that much. Did you know you didn't have a roommate until two hours ago?"

Yahagi recoiled a little.

"Maybe you smell?" the girl said, taking a large step forward. She leaned in, inhaling deeply. "Not badly. Then you must have some weird quirk that made the staff decide you'd need your own room."

Weird quirk, such as having parents, Yahagi realized, calming down a little. She had essentially bought her way into the dorm, which was an uncommon occurrence, and maybe the Kantai Project had decided to help keep her secret, by not giving her any roommate?

With little regard for anything, her boisterous roommate began searching her pile of half unpacked items.

"Books, no porn or romance. Boring. Alarm clock, no. Unless it's really a bomb? You have some kind of IED fetish? It would make sense, the staff wanting to keep you away from people."

"I don't," Yahagi said, ripping her clock out of the girl's hand.

"Lamp, normal. Is this a cactus? Why on Poseidon's blue earth do you have a cactus?"

"To liven the place up." She really shouldn't have needed to defend herself.

"You get off on poking yourself with it? No? Fine, then. Here." The girl barely waited for Yahagi to set aside the alarm clock before stuffing the potted cactus into her arms. Yahagi set it aside, too. Sakawa was watching with an amused expression.

"What about in here?" the girl said, approaching one of Yahagi's intentionally unopened boxes.

Yahagi jumped to her feet. "Wait, that's enough."

There was only one conclusion she would jump to, if she saw one of the items. But Yahagi wasn't quick enough to stop her.

"Handcuffs," the girl said, grinning ear to ear as she lifted them out of the box, dangling them on a single finger. "So, you sub, then?"

"What?" Yahagi said, entirely aware of her voice going up an entire octave. "No!"

"Dom, huh? I wouldn't have guessed."

"I'm neither!"

"Oh la la~. Voyeur, is it? Look, I won't judge you, but I can't speak on behalf of your friend here, so try to keep your fantasies on the down low, m'kay?"

Yahagi buried her head in her hands. "It's not like that – they're actual handcuffs."

"Yeah, I can tell. Durable metal. You go for realism, it's cool. Now, what else do we have here? Clothing. Stylish, but cold. Unapproachable. All your panties are plain white. Means you must be boring in bed. A contradicting conclusion."

"I-" Yahagi hesitated.

"No experience in bed? Can't even deny it? You ever kiss anyone?"

"That's-"

"A 'no'. Should have known as much. I bet you take pride in your intelligence. You don't need any guys around to distract you. Girls either. Big no no. Means those handcuffs were for less nefarious purposes. Maybe a keepsake? A memento? You had a parent, or grandparent in the force? A sibling, maybe? Your oneechan was killed by a thug, and you've vowed to hunt him down and send him to Yoichi – using the very handcuffs that once belonged to her? Okay, your expression is telling me I'm a little off the mark – and by little, I mean a lot. Then, you're a wannabe magician, and you've nearly mastered the impossible escape act? Or were they handcuffs used to capture some big shot criminal, and you bought them to own a little piece of history?"

"It's none of those," Yahagi said, sitting on the floor in defeat. "They're just standard issue from the police force."

"Fine, fine. You'll have to tell me more about that later." She moved on to the next pile, which happened to all be sweaters. "You packed six sweaters. Hey," she said, turning to Sakawa. "You think six is a lot?"

Sakawa nodded. "Too many. Hmm. I wonder why?"

They were playing off each other now? Yahagi regretted inviting her supposedly newfound friend into her room.

"It's cold at night, so she packed them for the night time," her roommate said. "If she goes out a lot at night, and it's not for men, then it's for some kind of hobby. A hobby that takes brains. Her books were all mystery and crime and shit. She's obviously a vigilante, who cracks crime between night's onset and dawn's break."

It was eerie how quickly she had talked her way to the conclusion. And it wasn't a completely wrong one, either. Yahagi had done her fair share of exploring the city at night, when working on the particularly hard cases her mother had left her.

Hearing her roommate say it, however, made Yahagi realized what kind of place she was in. The country's best high school graduates had all been gathered in one place. They were smart, physically fit, knowledgeable, and altogether a little intimidating.

"Yahagi, what's your friend's name? I like her."

"Sakawa."

"Sakawa, listen," the girl said. "I need to set some things straight with my new pad mate, so go for a walk, eh? Your roommate is in, so you can start unpacking now."

"Sure thing," Sakawa said, picking up her box and jumping to her feet.

A moment later, they were alone. The girl sat on her own bed, across from Yahagi. Thankfully, she had lost interest in rifling through Yahagi's stuff, because all the yen Yahagi's mother had given her was hidden at the bottom of the box, and trying to explain having so much money would only have her labelled as a drug dealer, or a madam – and not the good kind.

"Yahagi."

"Yes?"

"You were supposed to have this room all to yourself. Plan was, for me, to have an apartment off campus. Things fell through, so I rushed in this morning and they gave me a list of students, telling me to pick one. I don't know why they did it like that, but they did. You're just really unlucky. I picked you at random, because I didn't give a crap where I was. We're stuck together for a year, possibly more if they try to keep us together when we move to the second year dorm. Not going to apologize. Someone was going to get stuck with me. I just wanted you to know, so you could decide whether or not to hate me."

"I'm not going to hate you."

"Are you sure? I mean, isn't that supposed to be how it starts? You're an unapproachable, raven haired, mysterious, pony-tailed beauty. A textbook example of a tsundere."

"I am not!"

"Don't you mean 'a what?'."

"What?"

"You just admitted you know what a tsundere is. I'm not here to judge, but I'm willing to bet you read more than crime novels."

Yahagi sighed, laying down on the hardwood floor and dropping an arm over her eyes.

"Okay," her roommate said. "Sorry. I'll chill a little. No biggie. I was even thinking it would be better if we just kept out of each other's hair. No need to be pals, y'know? Just keep our distance. I mean, statistically speaking, one of us is going to fail out by the time the first exam period comes around."

"One thing," Yahagi muttered after a short silence.

"You're pretty demanding," her roommate said, though she sounded curious. "What is it?"

"Can I ask for your name?"

The girl recoiled. "Didn't I tell you?"

"No."

"I thought I introduced myself when I first walked in," she said, frowning. "I planned to, at least. What did I say? Did I get distracted?"

"Me and Sakawa were talking about the Americans and you said 'those fuckers won't do anything until an Abyssal pisses on their toes.'"

Her roommate winced. "Language!"

"That's what you said."

"Fine. My name is Noshiro Nakamura. Remember it, or don't. Hate me, or don't. I don't really care. Oh, but don't swear anymore. It doesn't suit you."

"I'm going to remember it, and I'm not going to hate you," Yahagi insisted, but Noshiro was already walking out of the room.

* * *

 **A/N:** Telephones? Check. Pads, condoms? Check. Manga (tsundere)? Nope. Buses? Trains more likely. I'll probably focus less on historical details as the story develops, because doing all this fact checking is getting bothersome.

Also, any monetary quantities mentioned aren't supposed to be very important. Considering inflation & cultural & historical differences, I opted for simplicity, having 100 Yen = 1 CAD.


	13. Party

Their room, through no fault of her own, had become the floor's social gathering area. It was the night before their first day of classes, and according to everyone on their floor, that meant party time. Fortunately for her, she had finished unpacking her stuff and securing it in the proper drawers, or out of sight and under the bed, which had turned into seats for those who got tired of standing.

Initially, Yahagi had been a little intimidated by the belief that everyone would be as outgoing and intelligent as Noshiro, but it turned out to be an unnecessary worry. The Kantai Project had brought in such a wide variety of girls that it almost couldn't have been coincidence. Yahagi adopted the theory that they intentionally wanted such vastly different people, as to shore up any potential weaknesses when they were at war.

At first, she had protested against the people making themselves comfortable in her room, but so many unfamiliar faces shot her looks of annoyance that she had given up, afraid of being labelled as a party pooper. Both Sakawa and Noshiro had made too many friends in too little time, and their friends had invited friends, and there were a dozen conversations occurring at once, while everyone was trying to speak louder than the neighbouring people as to be heard.

A few times, she tried counting the guests, ending up with sixteen and then eighteen, and she thought she counted nineteen once, but people were mingling too much to tell for sure.

The room erupted into applause.

"Kiso, Kiso, Kiso!" they began to chant.

Yahagi didn't want to, but she pushed her way to the front of the crowd to see the cause of the commotion. An older looking girl had entered the room, carrying a carton of drinks. Sake, Yahagi realized. The crowd parted, and Kiso walked forward, depositing them on the two tables that had been pulled together in the middle of the room.

When the people tried to approach for a drink, however, Kiso fended them off.

The girl was scary enough, with an eye patch and messy dark green hair, but she clenched brass knuckles in her fist. The weapon had at one point been illegal, but laws regarding self defense had crumbled as people fled from the oceans, and it was decided that police resources would be better used elsewhere, so self defense weapons were no longer arrest worthy.

"Who're the occupants of the room?" Kiso demanded.

The crowd didn't know. They looked around, accusing each other with eyes and denying it with raised hands, as though it were a crime. Yahagi spent a second looking around too, expecting Noshiro to speak up, but then she realized she hadn't once counted her roommate among the people in the room. It was time to make a tactical retreat, Yahagi decided as she withdrew from the crowd.

She wasn't sneaky about it, and maybe refusing to meet anyone else's eyes was her downfall, but someone accosted her.

"You know the room's owners?" the person said.

"No," Yahagi said, shaking her head and breaking free of the grip.

Three paces before making it out of the room, however, she was called out.

"Yahagi!" Sakawa shouted, waving to her from across the room. "Where you going? Kiso's asking for you."

Without the opportunity to resist, she was shoved forward, into the midst of the crowd, and found herself standing in a small opening at the center of the room. Kiso pulled a bottle of Sake from the case, offering it to her.

She felt momentary relief that Kiso's plan wasn't to sock her and dispose of her body so they could continue partying all night without interruption, but then she realized how powerful peer pressure really was. An entire room of her peers were watching her every move, and to say no would possibly be sabotaging her social life before the first day of school.

It felt like she were thrust into the middle of a cult initiation, and they would kill her if she didn't drink the sacrificial lamb's blood. She took the bottle, cracking it open. The sweet aroma escaped, and though it smelled good, she wasn't entirely sure if it would taste good. She had never drank alcohol before. In fact, a few minutes ago she had been daydreaming about arresting the entire room, when they finally broke out the alcohol.

They were supposed to be respectable soldiers-in-the-making, not unreliable, partying drunks. Yet here they all were, waiting on her. It would, essentially, be the go ahead for everyone else to let loose, and Yahagi felt a little trapped. Bringing the bottle to her lips, she cursed her decision to desert a career with the law enforcement.

The bottle was torn from her hands, however, before she could taste the first drop of alcohol.

"Kiso! I was the one who invited you. I step out for a minute, to visit the bar, and you settle for the second-in-command? I feel betrayed," Noshiro shouted, throwing her head back, upending the bottle and drinking half of it in one go, before slamming it down on the table. "Ah, that hits the spot. Now, let's get this party started!"

Yahagi looked at her with a mixed expression. Her saviour, or the worst of the bunch?

The party, if not one before, became one in earnest. In seconds, half the people in the room had bottles in their hands, and a young girl with short, auburn hair had appeared with bowls of chips in hand, which people grab piles of with their hands, showing no regard for the chips that fell on the floor and were quickly kicked around and crunched beneath feet, breaking into a mess that would take forever to clean up later.

A hand clapped on her shoulder, and she nearly jumped.

"Sorry, by the way. I just saw alcohol and wanted to drink it. You want the rest?" Noshiro said, offering the half empty bottle to her.

"No. No thanks."

"Of course not. That would count as an indirect kiss. God forbid you'd want to partake in such sinful actions."

"That's not it. And I don't think either of us are religious, here."

"I am," Noshiro insisted.

"Really?"

"Yes. I pray to Poseidon."

Yahagi frowned, unsure of whether or not she was being played. "Poseidon?"

"Yes. God of the sea-"

"I know that. But why a Greek god?"

"Doesn't really matter the origin, could have been Mizuchi for all I care. I just figure I should get a head start on getting along good with a water god. I mean, there's going to be some time, in the near future, where I'm out on the ocean and really need some divine intervention, and I feel like my god of choice might be a little more apt to respond if I've been praying to him for some time in advance."

"I see." She didn't, really.

"You're thinking I'm stupid, aren't you?"

"No-" Yahagi began.

"Well, it's okay. You're right. I've only just now realized it, but I should be praying to all of them. How many mythologies are there? Like, one for every country, and most have multiple water gods. I could have an entire army of gods backing me."

"You're drunk."

"That's irrelevant."

"It's the first day of classes tomorrow. How can you get drunk?"

"By drinking. Lots."

"Alcohol is expensive."

"I know people," Noshiro said with a wink.

Yahagi hesitated. "Yesterday, you said you were going to live in an apartment – you – you're a Filles, aren't you?"

Noshiro's eyes narrowed, and she pulled Yahagi close. Yahagi wrinkled her nose when she smelled the alcohol, and tried to break free, but Noshiro wouldn't have it.

"Don't say stuff like that. I'm not a Filles. My parents aren't in the picture, m'kay?"

"Okay."

"We're competition – I get that – but you really trying to get me lynched on the first day?"

"Lynched? They wouldn't do that, would they?" Yahagi said, unintentionally letting panic into her voice.

"It would be appropriate revenge, don't you think? For last year."

Reluctantly, Yahagi nodded. "They would see it that way."

Noshiro pushed her away, until they were standing once again at a normal distance from each other. She laughed, raised the bottle of Sake, and took a large gulp.

"You ever drink before?" she said.

"No," Yahagi said.

"And you were going to, here? If I hadn't shown up?"

"Yes."

"Sounds like a tremendously bad idea."

* * *

Everyone was enjoying the party, and though she was technically a host, she felt powerless.

Her window was open, and two girls were next to it, smoking. Neither made an effort to actually direct the smoke out the window, and Yahagi grimaced when they tossed the cigarette buts out the window and reached into their pockets for more. When they pulled out their lighters, setting them aflame with well practiced flicks of their fingers, Yahagi winced. And finally, when they lit their cigarettes and took fresh puffs, the smoke dissipating towards the ceiling instead of heading out the window, Yahagi forced her eyes closed and looked away.

"Isn't this great?" Sakawa said, accosting her a moment later.

"That's one word for it," Yahagi said.

"Free alcohol," she sang, wrapping an arm around Yahagi.

This time, Yahagi didn't bother trying to break free. She was seeing a theme, among drunks.

"You're going to have a hangover tomorrow," Yahagi said.

"I know, and I'm going to _hate_ it. Maybe you're the smart one, not drinking?"

"Maybe."

"But, you know, I've never killed an Abyssal before."

"Okay. You've failed to bring me along with your train of thought. Want to back it up a little?"

Sakawa pulled away, rubbing her nose. "Killing Abyssals. Why? Oh, right. Alcohol is the best thing in the world, right? At least, that's what I thought a couple hours ago, but now – now I'm enlightened. Free alcohol! I figure, if it's free, then it's even better, right? So free alcohol is now the best thing in the world – but, you know, there might be something better, something I've yet to discover."

"Like killing Abyssals."

"That's it! We're like two peas in a pod," Sakawa said, grinning, pulling her in and invading her personal space again. "I can't wait. Ma' will be so proud of me. At least, more so than Pops. Don't think he got a single one of them. He was stupid. An idiot. A moron."

Her insults were stretched syllables, and Yahagi didn't know how to react. Should she have tried telling Sakawa not to talk ill of the dead, or should she let the drunk do as she pleased? The drunk was, quite possibly, remembering sad events from the past, so Yahagi decided to keep quiet. She had no right to speak.

The crowd reached a point where it couldn't grow any more – some people were hanging in the hall outside the room – and finally Yahagi escaped Sakawa, who had fallen into a drunk stupor, throwing insults at whoever tried to get near her. It didn't take long to find Noshiro, who was surrounded by a large group of girls. Yahagi slowly weaseled her way closer, a process which took upwards of five minutes, until she found herself standing next to her roommate.

"The RA is going to show up any second now, and I'm not taking any responsibility for this mess," Yahagi said.

"Chill. Relax," Noshiro said. "The RA is handled. She won't be showing up anywhere, any time soon."

"That's not reassuring. What did you do to her?"

"Nothing. I'm just supplying the room. Kind of like how Kiso supplied the drinks – it's a group effort."

Another girl swaying to the music – because her movements could not be called dancing – pushed her way into the conversation. "Ah. Don't worry about miss rich bitch. She'll be a while, waiting for a confession behind the cinema that'll never happen. Of course, someone like her wouldn't want to disappoint their secret admirer by not waiting."

"Isn't that a little mean?" Yahagi said.

The girl contorted her face with disgust. "If you want to cry over a Filles, you can go do it elsewhere."

Another girl joined the conversation, sparing Yahagi from responding. "I just don't get why they don't choose Orphans to be RAs. I mean, we're trustworthy, aren't we? Why's it got to be all the rich bitches?"

"But really," a girl nearby said with a slurred voice and no hesitation. "Does it matter? I mean, we just, like, trick them, and it's all good, right? Right?"

"She's not going to fall for that again."

"Then threaten. Blackmail. You know? Make it work for us."

"Three dorms, three Filles. Did they really think it through?"

"It's more than that, though. The other dorms supposedly have some Filles in them, too."

"I heard the third floor has three of them – it's like their parents don't want them."

The group broke into laughter.

"Here's the list," a girl said, thrusting a paper forward when the laughter finally died. Some girls leaned in to read it, and Yahagi's curiosity won over, so she followed suit.

It was a list of names. Check-marks were beside the majority of them, but a handful had X's.

"Oh, oh, I know Tama. Her parents died right in front of her so she's a little weird in the head. You can cross her off."

Someone procured a pencil, and the group crossed the name off. It was then that Yahagi realized what they were doing. A list of students, with the Orphans being checked off. The X's, well, Yahagi had a feeling she knew what they stood for. They were hunting the wolves in sheeps' clothing. And then she realized her name would be on there, and they would turn their attention towards her, and if one of them had heard of the name 'Yamane' before, then her secret would be out before even the first day of classes.

And she would be lynched.

Still, out of a morbid curiosity, her eyes began searching the list for her name. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw her name was already marked – but with a check, not an X. She wasn't about to debate the point. Taking a step back, she looked at the girls around her. Was it a mistake – or had they just assumed the party's host was so obviously in the clear?

Compared to the people around her, her face was white like a ghost.

"I'm going to go out for a bit," she said, escaping back into the crowd, and then breaking free into the hallways outside her room. A few of the overflow people turned their heads at her sudden appearance, but she ignored them and went for the closest set of stairs.

She didn't know where she was going, but she was a little angry. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Her roommate for the next year, and her first friend at Kantai Academy, seemed inclined to get drunk at every opportunity, and there was little doubt the opportunities would be numerous.

* * *

The first day of classes came and went, and Yahagi filled the first sixteen pages of her notebook.

Nobody had exaggerated the difficulty first years would face, and, as she and Sakawa walked the camp, she had absolutely no empathy for the girl, who complained exactly sixty two times through the day about her hangover. The first few times, Yahagi had offered a response, but she'd quickly found silence was a better alternative. Noshiro was, by a wide margin, better equipped to handle a hangover. It seemed some people could handle their alcohol much better than others.

Noshiro even raised her hand once or twice, to answer questions posed by the professor. Even Yahagi hadn't the courage to do that.

"You don't hate me, do you?" Sakawa said.

"No," Yahagi said.

"You – you want to be my friend, right? I didn't just force myself on you – leaving you no room to refuse, did I?"

"No."

"So then why not?"

"Because you need to learn from your mistakes. If I were to give you my notes now, you'll just do it again."

"What, drink?" Sakawa laughed, but it was meek. "It was the pre-semester party, I can't very well skip that, can I?"

"You can do as you want – excluding following me around."

"You know, you're only making me more curious," Sakawa said as they arrived at their dorm and climbed the stairs.

"Maybe you should focus your curiosity somewhere else, like trying to find the classrooms on your own."

"Is that a threat?" Sakawa said. "As long as you don't disappear on me, I can follow you around all day."

"My business isn't particularly interesting. We have reading to do, too."

"Maybe Noshiro was right," Sakawa said, though it was more of a whisper, probably intentional.

"Right about what?"

"She said you were cold and unapproachable, remember?"

Yahagi let out an exasperated sigh. It was so obvious, what Sakawa was doing, but hadn't she wanted to try to change?

"Fine," she finally said. "It'll be boring, but if you really want to accompany me, then you can do so on two conditions."

"What are they?" Sakawa said, almost tripping over her own words.

"First, you help me clean the room. There still some mess under the tables and chairs that I didn't get to last night."

She had only returned to her room after midnight, when she was sure everything had calmed down. Noshiro had returned even later, and she had a sneaking suspicion that the girl had either went to an after party, or made her way to a bar in town. Since classes started at eight thirty the next morning, Yahagi had been willing to spend only a few minutes to clean up what she could using a broom. And spilled drinks could _not_ be swept up.

"Deal," Sakawa said. "And the second?"

"Second is, you don't tell anyone about it. I don't want other people to know what I'm up to."

"Is it illegal? Because I can't agree to it then." She paused, frowning. "Well, I can, and I will, but that sounded like the proper response. Hmm. Maybe you're that thief – Nezumi – and that's why you have so many sweaters. You go out every night looking for targets and doing thieving stuff."

"Thieving stuff? No, it's nothing illegal."

"Well, I agree to keep my lips sealed, so tell me, already!"

In her dorm room, Yahagi pulled the two tables – which somehow had nothing spilled on them – together again. Noshiro had said something about going out to drink, so they would have a privacy for at least awhile. From underneath her bed, she retrieved a map of the island, and laid it flat on the table. Sakawa walked around it, pointing a finger to Ono, a city on the western side of the island.

"We are here," she announced proudly.

"No," Yahagi said, dragging her finger across the map until it was pointed at Nomi. "We are here."

She could forgive the mistake, considering how close the cities were to each other, and the fact that nothing was labelled on the map, but it was still disconcerting when Sakawa leaned forward, frowning as though she wanted to debate the correction.

Kantai Academy had a course explicitly called 'Navigation', which they would be taking second or third semester, and Yahagi desperately hoped Sakawa would be able to pull herself together in time. As it was currently, some doubt existed about whether or not Sakawa could find their dorm building without her help.

Yahagi stared at the map.

The country, now officially known as the Japanese Archipelago, had multiple islands. They lived on the largest, which was remnants of the prefectures of Nagano and its neighbours. The island's population was an estimated three million people, which was just over half of the country's entire population. There were many bays and inlets all around the island, and to the north and south there were other inhabited islands, but their island took a roughly circular shape. The longest single stretch of land, running west to east, was just shy of being two hundred kilometers long.

Because traffic was almost light, with everyone taking trains and buses, it took no more than six hours to reach the east coast. And that was in worst case scenario. If she wanted to head to one of the bays or inlets, it could take as little as two hours. Nezumi's MO indicated her comfort zone was on the west coast, which was advantageous to Yahagi. It was just before five pm, though, so if she did find reason to believe Nezumi was going to strike on the east coast tonight, she would be on a tight schedule.

Also from underneath her bed, she pulled out a pile of newspaper clippings and a small box of pins. She began sorting through the clippings, pinning the relevant locations on the map. She also retrieved a pile of stapled papers, hidden underneath her panties in her dresser, and set it on the map. For the next few weeks, the papers were her most valuable resource for catching the thief.

Retrieved from a friend at the police headquarters, it listed all salvage and cargo operations of the island's harbours which involved koban – the gold coins which Nezumi always targeted. If the thief was going to act, she would be hitting one of those operations, either on the boat, before it was unloaded, or at the warehouse, immediately after the salvage had been unloaded.

Her first theft had been on the boat, before crew had begun unloading, but the subsequent three were in the warehouse, late at night. For this reason, Yahagi had reason to believe it would be another warehouse theft. It was much easier to break into a warehouse than gaining access to the boat itself, while there were crew aboard and all the salvage was packed tightly together.

"So, uh, what are these?" Sakawa said, her eyes roaming the newspaper clippings with surprising efficiency. She picked up the most recently dated article.

"All of Nezumi's thefts. You accused me of being" - she nearly said 'her' - "him, but it's quite the opposite. I'm the one who's going to arrest him."

"That's what your handcuffs were for? You saving them for him?"

"Something like that."

"Personal vendetta?"

"No. Just an growing obsession, I guess you could say."

"I see." Sakawa sat on Noshiro's bed. She seemed a little forlorn.

"What's wrong?" Yahagi said. She wasn't confidence in her ability to cheer people up, but it wasn't very unsuitable for the girl to be frowning. Sakawa was usually more upbeat, if yesterday had been any indication of her personality.

"I was just thinking. Remembering the past. I guess I'm good at doing that to myself." She offered a weak smile. "Now, show me how you're going to catch him."

Using plastic push pins and referencing her sheet of operations, she began marking locations with a colour coded scheme.

Red pins indicated salvage which would be brought to warehouses and left overnight – those were the most vulnerable. Now that Nezumi knew someone was after her, she might change things up, so Yahagi also marked, with yellow pins, ships with gold that would be left overnight in the harbour. Blue pins indicated boats that wouldn't stop overnight. They indicated were carrying a load, but weren't planning on unloading it, and instead would be leaving port under escort from the IJN in attempt to export it, or they would be bringing it to another island in the archipelago.

White pins were already done; they were the ones that indicated previously hit locations. Black pins were places that Yahagi determined were a 'no-go' for Nezumi. Either the security was too tight, the company too dangerous, or the terrain around it was unapproachable in some way. There were many factors she couldn't determine from just looking at a map, a list of companies, and a list of business in the area, but she tried her best. She also used black pins for shipments that were supposed to arrive, but had been delayed. They might come in in the next few days, or, if the Abyssals had gotten them, never at all.

The final pin was transparent. It was for classified cargo. Not gold, but valuable nonetheless. The secrecy around it might be enough to warrant Nezumi trying to steal it, but it was high risk, with no guaranteed reward. They could be bombs or machine parts that wouldn't be of value to the thief.

"Colourful," Sakawa commented when she finished.

Yahagi nodded, but remained silent. They stared at the map for a few minutes. Only coasts were marked, and the bareness of the rest of the map left Yahagi wondering if she was being too narrow minded. That was one of the worst traits a detective could have.

"So tell me, Yahagi, what makes you think you'll catch him? There's obviously something more going on here, if you don't mind me prying."

"I know how these kinds of people think." _I think._

"That sounds like some cliché line that an old grey haired detective might say, right before catching a serial killer."

"My mom was a detective," Yahagi said, before realizing it was a taboo subject. She winced, stealing a cautious glance at her naturally curious friend.

"She pass away recently?"

"Uh-"

"Don't worry about it," Sakawa said, once again showing she wasn't always such an outgoing, nosy person. "Sounds like you want to follow in her footsteps."

"Maybe."

"Just give it a few weeks. We'll be up to our necks in work, and it'll all feel like a distant dream." Sakawa stepped away, the map apparently no longer holding her interest. "Your cactus is dead, by the by."

It was, Yahagi realized. With growing suspicion, she leaned over to smell it.

"Sake."

Sakawa crossed her arms. "Well, since you're a detective, I can compile a list of people at the party last night."

"Don't bother. It's fine." That was a lie. She had had the thing for almost a decade, and some stupid drunk kid had decided to drown it in alcohol.

"I was sorta joking."

"It's fine," Yahagi repeated. "Anyways, you promised me you would help clean. Let's get started."

Thankfully, the dorm room was hardwood instead of carpeted, but it still took longer, when they found how much garbage had been kicked under Noshiro's bed.

* * *

With not a hint of indecision, Yahagi took a late night train down the coast. For the most part, the tracks followed the road, delving into mountains where it needed to, and running along the top of a cliff in other spots. She stared out the window, trying to bore herself to sleep. It didn't work. There was some guilt, for tricking everyone in her dorm, and unease, for the possibility of meeting Nezumi again.

If the thief was going to strike within the next three days, Yahagi was going to the right spot.

With plenty of time to spare, she arrived at her destination and began scouting the warehouse, growing more and more confident with each passing minute.

Nezumi's thefts had always been reported the morning after, meaning nobody knew exactly when the thief struck. It could have been at eight pm, by which time most dock workers had retired for the night but security was still on patrol and wide awake, or it could have been a cautious, three am arrival, weaved between patrols of half-asleep men.

Stakeouts weren't the most efficient way of getting things done. She would have much preferred dropping by bars and motels, quizzing people about familiar faces, but there were two issues she had to overcome first. She didn't have nearly enough of a physical description to begin a head hunt, and she didn't know the general whereabouts of Nezumi's base of operations. The thief was human just like the rest of them, she would need food and water, which meant shopping. Somewhere out there, in the sunlight, she was walking undisguised among people.

The approach path was obvious. After circling around the warehouse three times, there was only one easy place to approach unseen and quickly, without leaving too much of a trace behind. Yahagi settled into a prone position among the bushes, and waited.

In her pocket, she had her handcuffs, a pocket knife, and a flashlight. In her hands, a Type 26 revolver. Her mother had insisted she know how to use a gun, many years ago, and since then Yahagi had owned her own, taking it to the range every month to warm up on her skills. It had ended up handy, when the Kantai Academy brought her in for the second phase of testing.

Still, she remembered the day before the first day of school. She had left her gun in a box under her bed that night – she had checked with administration and they allowed students to carry weapons – but she didn't trust any of her peers with a weapon. They were a bunch of drunks.

Nonetheless, Kantai Academy had a shooting range and guns available, whose usage was required by second years, and encouraged by first years. There were courses on different guns such as pistols, machine guns, and long range rifles like the Type 99, but the school went further: grenades and other explosives, flamethrowers, mortars were also included in the curriculum. The reasoning was that they wouldn't always be in command of a ship – especially at the outset of the program, where most ships were still being built. The recruiters hadn't explicitly stated it – because the Imperial Japanese Navy wasn't authorized – but they wanted their own equivalent to army's special forces unit, and that meant more than being able to command cutting edge ships and technology.

There were even rumours of some students who 'failed', and weren't ever seen again. They were supposedly recruited into a special subdivision of the Kantai Project, which would operate around the world, fighting Abyssals and influencing wars fought between other countries. But Yahagi always dismissed these silly rumours because they were all drunk girls.

According to her wristwatch, it was nine pm, and she had been waiting for not even an hour, when she first heard someone approaching. The footsteps flattening the weeds kept getting louder, until her heart was pounding in her chest and someone passed no more than five feet from her position in hiding.

It was, without a doubt, Nezumi. She wore the same large cargo jacket as the other day.

Yahagi had, in all honesty, expected the night's stakeout to end uneventfully, but she had been too impatient to catch the thief to not try. She had expected to spend the night waiting, and eventually fall asleep some time past midnight. If Nezumi decided to arrive later, she was a light sleeper and would have been woken up. If Nezumi didn't show up at all, then there would be little lost, aside from a sore back and hair full of twigs and leaves. Besides, Yahagi didn't need much sleep; she would have been fine with six hours.

She waited until Nezumi was far enough away before she slipped out of the bushes and began to follow. The thief stopped at the warehouse, fiddling with the door for a few minutes. It opened without a creak. With a cautious backwards glance that failed to spot Yahagi, Nezumi entered the warehouse. Yahagi withdrew her gun. It was loaded, but she didn't want to use it. There was no point in what she was doing, if she ended up killing someone in the process.

She stopped at the door, putting an ear up against it. There were no sounds, but she couldn't waste any time. Two other exits existed, and she would feel like a fool if she let Nezumi walk in one door, grab the gold, and walk out another, leaving her behind.

She opened the door, stepping inside.

With eyes already well adjusted to the dark, she examined her surroundings. They had come in through the back door. There were three trucks parked next to each other, and towards the center of the warehouse, crates and forklifts. They were large, almost a meter in all dimensions, and didn't likely hold the salvage of interest. Any gold would be stored in the office, which was in a separate room, built into one of the front corners.

Yahagi pulled her shoes off, setting them out of sight underneath one of the trucks. In her socks, her footsteps were virtually silent as she crossed the cement. She held the gun with both hands. She was a good shot at the shooting range, and had used it to coerce criminals into obeying before, but she never liked it – especially when she wasn't, technically, a cop.

Through the window separating the office and the warehouse's storage space, she could see the light was on. It had to have been Nezumi's doing, but there was no movement inside the office. Either Nezumi was laying low to the ground – perhaps working on opening a safe – or it was a trap, and the office was empty.

Yahagi hadn't gotten so far so she could chicken out and turn back. Checking her corners, as to not be surprised like last time, she made her approach.

The office was both unlocked and empty. She stepped inside, looking for signs of Nezumi. It wasn't impossible that the manager had forgotten to turn off the lights at the end of his shift, but she knew that Nezumi had entered the warehouse. The possibility that Yahagi had been seen, or heard, seemed more likely with each passing second.

It was already obvious that Nezumi was quick. In her last theft, she had potentially been intruded upon yet still found time to hide her loot in the rafters. Just now, there had been a period of about forty seconds when Nezumi had been alone in the warehouse. Where had she gone, during that time?

A single clap echoed through the warehouse, and Yahagi spun around.

Trapped.

From somewhere above, possibly on the office's roof, Nezumi had dropped to the ground, directly in front of the door. Yahagi aimed her gun.

"You're not going to shoot me." Nezumi's voice wasn't gruff, like it had been before. That wasn't to say it was completely unfiltered, but it was easily recognized as female.

"I might," Yahagi said, "if I feel threatened enough."

Nezumi shook her head. "I'll prove it to you."

"Don't move!" Yahagi shouted, but Nezumi ignored her.

The thief reached into her pocket and pulled out a handgun, just like Yahagi's. She aimed it.

"See? You came after me, but you have no commitment."

"You – you aren't going to shoot me, either."

"No," Nezumi said. Having admitted the fact, she put her gun back in her pocket. "Now you put yours away, and we can talk."

Yahagi shook her head. "No. We can talk, but I'm not lowering my gun."

"That's hardly fair."

"Stealing isn't fair."

"Touché."

"So what did you want to talk about, with your last moments as a free woman?" She tried to focus, to keep her gun straight, but it kept wavering. Something which never happened before.

"I thought I would ask you something. You know where my name originated?"

"Rat."

"No shit, Sherlock. I mean, why did the media decide to call me that?"

"Because you're a low life good-for-nothing human being?" Yahagi said, keeping her voice as bright and happy as possible.

Nezumi took a step closer.

"Stop. Don't come any closer. Nezumi Koto. A nineteenth century thief whose style you imitate."

"That's right," Nezumi said, sounding satisfied. "I knew you knew. What you probably don't know is that I do more than imitate him. I'm his descendant."

"He stole from the rich, gave to the poor. Is that what you're doing?"

Nezumi gave a short laugh, though it sounded more like a bark than anything. "No. Heaven and hell's, no. I've got other things to handle before I can start worrying about stuff like that. You know, people always say you make more working for yourself, but I don't think that's quite true. I was on my own when I first started, but then I found an employer. They pay nicely for the gold, it's safer, and they tell me where to go – they've got some kind of mole within the government, or something, to know about all the shipping operations going on."

"Why are you giving me this information?"

"I already said, last time we met. If I see you again, I'm going to kill you."

Her finger twitched. She very nearly shot the thief. She _would_ shoot, if it came down to it, wouldn't she? Yahagi had been in dangerous situations before. Crazed, drugged criminals charging her down – she wasn't an idiot.

"Haha, you're such an idiot," Nezumi said, clutching her chest in an overt gesture of amusement. "You should have seen your face when I said that. Relax. I'm not going to kill you. I was kidding. Listen up, and I'll tell you why I'm telling you."

Nezumi took a step to the side, sitting on a desk that stretched the full length of the office. Yahagi kept her gun trained on the girl the entire time, though she was shaking more than before. She needed to get her nerves under control. Why was she so unsettled, when she had handled worse, before? Maybe it was because Nezumi was an unknown entity. She had correctly predicted where Nezumi would strike next, but it didn't feel like enough.

If the thief wasn't going to kill her, then what was she going to do?

"I'm making good money, and I'm almost ready to retire the name. Take ten days off. Please?"

"Not happening. You're done."

Nezumi sighed. "I thought as much. Nezumi Koto was my great-great-great-grandfather. Or something like that. Might be one 'great' more or less. Anyways, he was executed after being captured by Shogun one too many times. The man who caught him each time? Ishii Yamane."

Yahagi frowned. Coincidence?

"Yeah, I know," Nezumi continued. "I checked, as soon as I had the chance. He's your ancestor. Now you see, right? You're essentially destined to get in my way. A little dramatic, but whatever. I know I said I would kill you, last time, but I still expected you to try and get in my way. Maybe I _hoped_ you would, in a way, if I was being honest with myself."

"So this was a trap? You knew I would be here, and that's why you showed up?"

"Yes. No," Nezumi admitted. "I'm also here for the gold, which I'll be grabbing on my way out, but I did want to deal with you."

"Deal with me?" Yahagi repeated. She felt sick. Nezumi had a bone to pick with her, and she had had no idea.

"Yes. I'm not going to repeat my ancestor's mistake. Fuck you up enough here and you'll be too scared of getting in my way in the future. Sound good?"

It didn't, but Yahagi knew her saying so wouldn't matter. Still, she had the gun.

"I'll shoot you," she said.

"We've already went through this. Look, I'll make it easier for you. If you're going to shoot me, you'll want to make it nonlethal, so you can take me in, right?"

Yahagi didn't nod, despite it being true.

Nezumi brought her right hand up. She pinched two fingers together, as though she were holding something small. She closed her eyes, and though the balaclava hid her mouth, Yahagi was pretty sure she was smiling.

"What are you doing?" Yahagi said, taking a step backwards.

"Removing your option to shoot me." Nezumi brought her hand down, and Yahagi realized, too late, that it was another fishing line.

The lights clicked off, and she was blind.

She heard footsteps, but she had nowhere to go. She was already backed into the farthest corner of the office. Instead, she threw her gun aside, so Nezumi wouldn't get it, and brought her fists up.

The thief's line of thinking was right. Yahagi couldn't shoot if she couldn't see, else she risk making a lethal shot. It was an absurdly dangerous plan, if Nezumi wasn't completely confident in her analysis of Yahagi. Yet apparently they knew each other well. Yahagi had correctly predicted the warehouse that Nezumi would visit, and Nezumi knew how to make a gun useless in her hands.

They collided in the darkness, and Yahagi felt her arms being grabbed immediately. Struggling, she realized there was too great of a difference in strength – no, rather it was just that Nezumi had gotten proper leverage immediately, leaving Yahagi no way to fight back. She would need to use intelligence, instead. She paused a second, waiting as Nezumi adjusted her position, then kneed the thief as hard as possible.

It worked. Nezumi grunted, grip loosening for a moment, and Yahagi broke free. She made it only one step before Nezumi's legs swept out, tripping her and making her fall, hard. Wind knocked out of her when she hit the cement, and she tried to crawl away, but hands grabbed her legs, pulled her back, and flipped her over. Nezumi straddled her a second later, locking Yahagi's hands against her body.

"I couldn't kill you," Nezumi said, breathing hard, "so I was left thinking what I _could_ do to you, that would teach you a lesson. Physical punishments are always so boring and temporary – 'fleeting' is a good word to describe them. I was thinking about something else. Go for the psychological aspect, you know? I was considering, for awhile, tattooing you somewhere public, but decided that was too barbaric. So I looked a little into your life-"

Yahagi tried to roll free, but the weight was too much. "Don't you dare touch my parents!"

"No," Nezumi said, sounding a little frustrated. "That would be stupid. Even I'm not that stupid. It would only light a fire under your ass, and then I'd really need to kill you if I wanted a moment of peace."

Yahagi calmed a little at the reassurance. Her knife was almost reachable. Her arms were trapped under Nezumi's legs, but if she wriggled them up to her pockets, then she would have the knife. She started working on the task, making sure her movements were slowly enough that Nezumi wouldn't notice.

"You wouldn't believe the information the government has on _rich_ families," Nezumi said. "You were born in Tokyo. Still a baby during the Great Quake. Somehow survived, but Tokyo was a mess – not suitable to live in any longer. So your family followed the emperor, when he moved the capital to Ina. Your parents were smart, and quickly bought a lot of real estate near the imperial palace, making the Yamane's even wealthier. There, in Ina, you grew up. Family owns multiple vehicles, you went to a private school, a good life all around, if a little reserved."

Yahagi struggled momentarily, so Nezumi wouldn't think she was plotting something. The thief pressed an arm against her neck, and leaned in close. Alcohol on her breath was apparent, just like last time Yahagi had been subdued.

"But that's not all I learned," Nezumi whispered. "I noticed you were renting a dorm at Kantai Academy. Odd, isn't it? At least, I thought so. Looked into it a little more. There's an interesting dynamic, at Kantai Academy. They would call you a Filles. How do you think your peers would react, if they learned the truth? 'A wolf among sheep' isn't quite an accurate saying, though. Because sheep are too passive. How long do you think it would take, after telling them, to find you tied to a lamp post naked? How long would you last, in a dorm full of people who hate you? Not long, I imagine. Maybe you'll be a feature in the newspaper – the Orphans' payback for last year's little pageant."

"You do that, and I'll just come after you full time. I won't stop until you're caught – and then you'll really have a reason to kill me."

"Clearly you don't care about making this easy on me. I would pay you off, to leave me alone for a few weeks, if you weren't so stubborn. Unfortunately, you are, and that means I need to resort to more _involved_ methods. I needed something that you wouldn't easily forget, and after thinking about it for a bit, it actually turned out pretty simple."

Nezumi grabbed a chunk of her hair, but didn't pull. She had said no physical punishment, so Yahagi wasn't afraid for her hair. At least, not until she realized it would be a psychological punishment. Having a bald patch on her head wouldn't be very attractive – she would have to deal with the constant stares from the people around her.

"If you try anything funny, or hurt me, I'll take out a chunk of your hair, and I really don't want to. It's pretty sexy. Gives you a cool, mysterious detective look."

"What are you going to do to me?" Yahagi whispered, her heart pounding.

"Something you won't be able to easily forget."

It was still completely dark as she heard Nezumi pull off the balaclava. Yahagi tried to make sense of the dark shapes she was seeing. Long hair, or was that just Nezumi's coat? Taking her time, the thief adjusted her position atop Yahagi.

The contact between their lips was shocking, and Yahagi tried to pull away, before the grip on her hair stopped her. Nezumi's lips were surprisingly warm, for a cold-hearted thief. Temporarily forgetting where they were, and the darkness of the room they were laying in, Yahagi closed her eyes. She didn't know what to do, how to react, _if_ she should react, so she kept still. In seconds, it was over. Her lips were abandoned and left with a tingling sensation from the contact. Nezumi had had lipstick, Yahagi realized as she rubbed her lips together, spreading the waxy balm around.

It took her a moment to realize Nezumi was talking. "Remember this. When you meet the man of your dreams, your first love – remember he will never be your first kiss, for the thief Nezumi has stolen that honour from you. And now, she will depart with one last warning: if we meet again, I'll not be so nice."

Nezumi rose up off of her, and Yahagi sat up. It was the perfect opportunity, as Nezumi turned her back to leave. She had a knife, and handcuffs in her back pocket. The only issue was the lighting – her eyes were only now beginning to adjust to the dark. She could see that Nezumi had already pulled the balaclava back on, but wasn't looking her way.

But Yahagi realized she hadn't the motivation to chase. Hadn't she just been assaulted and violated? It was a confounding realization that she wasn't angry, or afraid. She had lost her first kiss to a thief – a criminal – but now, more than any case she'd ever handled before, she wanted to reveal the thief's identity, and put her behind bars.

According to Nezumi, the kiss was supposed to turn her off the case completely. Maybe they weren't so alike after all, because a burning passion was growing inside her chest.

She sat up, though Nezumi had already left the office.

Kantai Academy no longer seemed so important, now that she had found such determination. The emotion she felt was desire – desire to catch the thief and close the case. She would succeed, there was no doubt in her mind.

* * *

 **A/N:** Seriously though, Japan has way too many water deities.


	14. Shooting Range

**A/N:** Changed the rating to 'M', for this and future chapters. This may turn away some readers, and to them, I'm sorry, but this story is in large part for practice and experimenting with my writing. For those of you who continue with the story, thank you, and feel free to send feedback, criticism, or whatever my way so I know how I'm doing.

* * *

Despite it being past eleven when she made it back to the dorm, she still beat her roommate back. Only when Yahagi's mind was drifting off, as she lay under the warm covers of her bed, did the door finally open. The lights flicked on a moment later, and Yahagi winced. She had some choice words for her roommate, but bit her tongue. It was only the first week of school, and they weren't exactly close enough to be friends yet. If she went on a tirade now, the gap between them would only expand, and she risked spending a year with someone who disliked her.

"Did I wake you?" Noshiro said. "Shit, sorry."

"Just turn off the lights."

"I can't, though. Sit up."

Yahagi obeyed, rubbing her eyes.

"Cute nightdress," Noshiro commented.

Yahagi quickly pulled the covers up to her chest to hide her silky white shirt.

Noshiro had been too busy partying and drinking to unpack, so her half of the room still consisted of a pile of boxes and bags. Once Yahagi's eyes adjusted to the brightness, she watched as her roommate began digging around.

"Really – fucking – messy."

"It's your own fault."

Noshiro ignored her, and, pulling out a notebook, she rose it in the air triumphantly. Sitting on her bed, she spent a few long seconds staring directly at Yahagi, who could only begin to fidget nervously, waiting for Noshiro to admit to being a prostitute or something that explained her coming home so late. It didn't happen, however, and Noshiro took her pencil, flipped her notebook open, and began to write. Occasionally, she would look back up.

"What did you want?" Yahagi finally asked. "Can you not do this tomorrow? Wake up early if you haven't finished your homework – wait, we only had reading, didn't we?"

"It's called bonding. Just put up with me, m'kay?"

Yahagi sighed. It seemed more like a loss of sleep, than bonding, but nonetheless, she waited patiently, taking the opportunity to examine her roommate. This was only their third significant conversation. Noshiro, having already made friends with most of the people on their floor, kept away from her while they were in class. It was a behaviour that hurt a little.

She almost felt as if there _was_ something wrong with her. The administration hadn't initially given her a roommate, Noshiro was avoiding her in school, and she had just recently been sexually assaulted by a female and wasn't overly upset by it. She snuck her hand under her pillow and felt the cold metal of her revolver. It offered some peace of mind, but it was also a reminder of how different she was. Normal people wouldn't think it acceptable, or even comforting, to sleep with loaded revolver under their pillow.

"I fucking hate stop signs," Noshiro muttered, working intently on the page on her lap.

But Kantai Academy wasn't normal, was it?

"Do you know who killed my cactus?" Yahagi said.

"Like, I'd be fine with them if they were suspended in the air, but when they're posts, it's just so easy to walk into them."

"My cactus is dead. I think someone at the party poured Sake on it."

"And they're inanimate, so getting angry at them doesn't work and it just feels really stupid, which just makes me angrier."

"It was really important to me – you're not listening, are you?" Yahagi said, climbing out of bed. Noshiro watched her.

"Cute nightdress."

"You've already said that. It's not cute, and can you stop looking?"

"Can't, actually."

"No, of course not."

Yahagi began digging through her laundry basket. She had forgotten to empty the pockets of her jeans earlier, and she knew for a fact there was something she wanted from them. A moment later, she found it. Examining it again, she set it on her corner desk, next to the lamp. It was the jack that Nezumi had used to trick her, when they'd first ran into each other. Maybe she would return it to Nezumi, the day she caught the thief.

She also had two gold pieces, from both of her encounters with Nezumi, but she wasn't sure what to do with them. The police headquarters didn't seem interested in them – in fact, they seemed to be very disorganized, when it came to Nezumi.

"What do you have there?" Noshiro said.

"Nothing."

"You don't put 'nothing' somewhere so prominent... Oh, shit – I'm sorry. Look, I didn't mean to pry."

She set her pencil aside and met Yahagi's eyes. The green eyes were unfocused, glassy, and not nearly as attractive as Yahagi had first made them out to be.

Yahagi glared. "You're drunk."

"Drunk. Damn right I am. Look, I guess I'm a nosy person – especially when I'm drunk – so if I'm ever being myself – nosy, that is – just tell me, and I'll stop. We've all lost loved ones, and we've all got secrets we want to keep, eh?"

"Secrets?" Yahagi said, the word tasting bitter. "Like being an alcoholic?"

"You? An alcoholic?" Noshiro gasped. "No way!"

Yahagi clenched her fists, forgetting that friendship was supposed to be the target. "That's not funny. You – you disgust me! I should tell the administration."

"I'd imagine they already know."

"What?"

"They test a lot of things," Noshiro said quietly. "You've done it all, too, so you know. Aptitude tests, physical tests, blood tests, intelligence tests, stress tests – and, hell, weapon tests. They love their tests, because that's all that matters to them. _Results_. If I can hit a target from thirty feet with my weapon of choice, and I'm not liable to drop dead to some random ass illness, they apparently don't give a fuck what I put in myself. Besides, reporting me to the administration? I know I'm competition and all, but isn't that unsportsmanlike? I'm a _functioning_ alcoholic. Most people I meet don't even realize I drink."

"Just because people don't know doesn't mean it's not bad."

"Never said it wasn't," Noshiro said, attacking her page with a little more vigour. "But there's a lot worse out there. You know how it goes – focus on the big problems – and, hey, sometimes the small ones are byproducts of the big ones, so they'll end up fixing themselves when all is said and done."

She was right, but still, it didn't sit well with Yahagi. "Or maybe you fix the small problems, and it makes the big ones easier."

"Whatever," Noshiro said in an unaffected voice. She set her pencil aside. "I'm ready for bed, anyways. I'll get the lights."

She set her notebook down, and Yahagi couldn't help but step forward to take a peek. Instantly, her anger subsided.

"It's me," she said.

Noshiro had done a pencil sketch of her. It was surprisingly good, for having been drawn in a couple minutes by a drunk person. Her hair was a scribble of dark lines, managed only by a ponytail, but the features of her face were almost too flattering, and she'd been drawn from the side, looking out at the page, so Noshiro had seen fit to up her bust size a little. Wearing the silk dress, too. Maybe it _was_ cute on her. She was leaning against a stop sign, holding Nezumi's jack on her outstretched palm.

The shadows of the scene, and the expression on her face, gave the drawing a very somber aura. Yahagi admired herself for a moment longer, before she looked away. Appreciating it any more would be narcissistic.

Noshiro shut the lights off, and began making her way back to her bed. A bang was quickly followed by profanity.

"That was my bed," she stated, and Yahagi was able to easily visualize her now cradling her foot, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"You're a good artist."

"Thanks. I got a grand total of two months of education in, before the Abyssals started to fuck shit up. And then the Kantai Project wanted me – so I guess that's that. No place in the world for amazing artists. I was probably so good at it, that it was divine intervention. The world wasn't ready for another Van Gogh."

Yahagi climbed back into her own bed. "That would be the alcohol speaking."

"You might be right. Talk to you tomorrow, or something. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

* * *

"Hi," Sakawa said, joining her in the hallways between class.

"You can't possibly be lost?"

Sakawa, as though she had a right to, waved her hand dismissively and snorted. " _Pshaw_. I know this building like the back of my hand."

"Then you don't need to follow me so closely."

"But we're friends!" Sakawa said, now examining her hand.

"Is that your excuse for everything?"

"Yes. Are you good with a gun?"

"Ominous question. Why ask?"

"I was going to go to the shooting range after class – wanted to know if you'd come with. You're good with a gun, aren't you? Don't deny it. Teach me."

And so, after a grueling lesson on physics, the two of them left the buildings behind, crossing the road to the southern fields.

The original campus had lots of sports teams and fields. The football field was mostly untouched. The nets were still in place, though the netting was falling apart and it acted more like two goalposts, and the boundary lines in the grass had faded and disappeared in recent years because Kantai Academy saw better uses for its funds, but it was still a well-used field. On weekdays, girls ran laps around the field, or they competed in a myriad of sports, setting up cones as necessary, and on weekends, the field was open to the public, so there was the occasional event.

The baseball diamond, on the other hand, no longer existed as a sports field. The pitcher's mound was no longer a mound, the infield was dusty and untended, with some stray blades of grass managing to grow. Many locals considered its fate a great disappointment, because people no longer ran its length, or any of it at all, and cheering crowds were no longer appropriate, because now there were only pieces of metal and wood jutting up from the grass.

It had been repurposed as Kantai Academy's primary shooting range.

"I've got a job lined up for next weekend."

"A job?" Yahagi said. "What kind of job do you need a gun for?"

"I'm telling you this because I trust you," Sakawa said, "no matter how much of a goody two-shoes you may be. I'll admit, it's little shady, but nothing bad – I don't think. Just a security job. I'm dissuading bad people by my presence, if you think about it."

Sakawa had already signed out a Hamada Type pistol from the staff, and now held it in hand. It was a semi-automatic with nine rounds, and something Yahagi had used a fair amount in the past, but she had brought her own revolver for practice. The Type 26 revolver was outdated, already replaced by the Nambu in the army, but it was what she was most comfortable with. Not to mention, it held a special place in her heart, for being the first weapon she'd ever learned to use. She could remember how proud her father had been, when she'd first shown proficiency with it, at a young age.

"You know how to load it?" Yahagi asked, figuring she should start at the basics.

It turned out to be a smart place to start, as she ended up going through the motions of basic gun maintenance several times before they began actual target practice.

"Shooting was my lowest score," Sakawa said, after missing for the third time in a row.

"Lucky there was no navigation test."

"Meany."

"It's true, though," another voice said. Someone she recognized from the Sunday night party approached – Kiso. "I don't think there's a single person on our floor who hasn't seen you wandering lost around campus."

"Oh, Kiso. Hi."

It might have been because of the eye patch, but Sakawa had the confidence to challenge Kiso to a shooting contest, which she abruptly lost. And the eye patch wasn't for show. If Yahagi had been more comfortable with Kiso, she might have tried bringing up the topic of depth perception, and just how exactly _not_ having it didn't hurt Kiso's accuracy, but as things stood, she didn't even think Kiso knew her name, and so she let the conversation stay between Sakawa and Kiso, while she practiced her own shooting.

"I don't know where Noshiro the gets the money," Kiso said, the conversation changing topics yet again, "but she's always drinking. I'm good friends with a bartender, so she's my source – that's how I supplied for the party – but I don't know how Noshiro can afford it. Once, I asked her if her family was in the business, but didn't give a straight answer."

"Maybe she sells her body," Sakawa said.

"Sakawa," Yahagi intervened. "Don't say that. That's how rumours get started."

"Sorry," Sakawa said. "I wasn't serious about it. She probably just got a large inheritance from her family."

Why was Yahagi defending an alcoholic? It was probably true, too.

* * *

Sumiko was a tall woman with broad shoulders, who, when not busy interrogating criminals with intimidation tactics, was exercising in the gym near the police headquarters. That was where Yahagi found her, working up a sweat in a tank top, revealing a glistening stomach and muscled six pack, which made all the men in the room both self-conscious, and motivated. Not that they would ever pass her in strength. She had brains, but her brawn easily overshadowed her intelligence to the point that some people only respected her for how hard she could punch.

"Yahagi," she said, stepping away from the weights and toweling off her forehead. "I heard you were in town. About time you drop by – though I was expecting you to catch me at my place, not here."

"You mean this isn't your home?" Yahagi said.

"I tried, but they're really strict about the hours," Sumiko answered, completely missing the sarcasm. "Now, you aren't working any of your mother's old cases, are you? I thought you finished that business."

Yahagi made sure no one was watching them, before handing over the two gold pieces.

"Koban," Sumiko said, turning them around in hand. "These are from the Nezumi thefts, aren't they?"

"I reported them to headquarters and they didn't even care to take it in as evidence – why aren't they investigating?"

"So then you come to me, when you realize they aren't doing anything."

"You're admitting it, then. What's going on?"

"Internal conflict – not that you're hearing it from me, though. Politics, even now. Word trickles down to dedicate all our resources to stopping Nezumi, and then the next thing we know, we're being told to drop the investigation. The chief doesn't want to lose any funding, so he's trying to figure out who to listen to, and it's all really just a massive headache. We're on pause, now."

"On pause," Yahagi repeated.

"It's ugly, but it is what it is. You may not officially be one of us – and with the whole navy program thing you're involved in, might never be – but the chief wants you to stand down, too."

"I don't want to," Yahagi said. She still needed to get her revenge, or fail trying.

"I get it, I get it. I don't know how you manage, but it's like you're on the same wavelength as Nezumi. He's a sneaky bastard, and you seem to be the most likely of us to catch him."

"So I'm on my own?"

"Yes, you are." She paused to drink from her water bottle. "Follow me, though. I might accidentally drop my keys, on the way out."

* * *

 _I_ _f we meet again, I'll not be so nice._

Yahagi could remember the words, but more importantly, she could remember the intonation with which they were said. What was worse than a stolen kiss? Yahagi had plenty of theories – all of them absolutely terrible things – and she couldn't stop making up further theories, each more elaborate than the previous, until she'd reached a point where even thinking about them would make her blush.

With Sumiko's resources – a Kurogane Type 95 – she didn't have to rely on a bus. The car was easy to drive – she'd driven her parents' Toyota AA before, so driving wasn't a new experience for her – and Sumiko had volunteered her house as a place to keep Nezumi – or, a 'friend', as she'd put it – until the chief of police took a side in the politics, so everything was in line for a victory. All Yahagi had to do was not screw up.

As it turned out, she was oddly adept at predicting where Nezumi would show up. The warehouse door opened, moonlight briefly revealing a person's shadow to Yahagi, where she was crouched behind crates. She withdrew her revolver. All six rounds were fully loaded with the 9mm ammunition that was unique to the revolver, whose production had stopped years ago. Taking a deep breath, Yahagi stepped out into the open. Her eyes were adjusted well enough to the darkness that she didn't have to worry about accidentally killing the thief with a misplaced shot, like last time.

Nezumi was dressed as usual, in a large coat and balaclava over her face, hiding nearly all her skin. She spun around at the sound of Yahagi's footsteps.

"What the fuck-"

"Stop," Yahagi ordered, pointing her revolver.

Nezumi didn't move, but she was still looking around the warehouse, as though trying to find an escape.

"No distractions, here," Yahagi said.

"How the hell did you get here? The bus schedule – I – I don't get it."

"I've been here for hours. I didn't think you were stupid enough to believe I'd work on a schedule."

"You're lying. I have someone watching you, at your little school. You only left an hour and a half ago. I suppose I've underestimated your resources."

"Speaking of resources, you've got sway with some important people," Yahagi said.

"No, I don't."

"You don't need to lie. It's obvious. The police aren't trying very hard to catch you."

Nezumi crossed her arms. "Is that so? Interesting. I guess I do have – how'd you put it – sway." She swayed her hips, grinning.

"Yakuza?"

"I don't think so."

" _Are you stupid_?" Yahagi said.

"No need for such a tone. I'm just uninformed."

The ignorant were dangerous, Yahagi reminded herself, as she retrieved her handcuffs and threw them over. She won, and she'd even given Nezumi a chance, by stopping to talk.

"Put them on," Yahagi said. "No tricks – I'm liking you less and less with each passing minute."

"Oh?" Nezumi said with a chuckle, before slowly bending down to pick the handcuffs up. "You liked me, did you?"

"Not what I meant," Yahagi said, realizing she felt this way about another person, too. "You disgust me. Committing crimes for your own benefit – even if the chief of police doesn't see it fit, I'll find a way to get you sent to Mount Yoichi."

"You sure about this?" Nezumi said, spinning the handcuffs around on a finger. "I don't mind it like this, but I always took you for sub."

"Wha-what are you saying? I'm putting you under citizen's arrest."

"Sub – you know – submissive – and then I'm dom – the dominant – and we do _stuff_ together, and-"

"I get it," Yahagi shouted, her face heating up. "Now shut up and cuff yourself."

"Okay, okay. If you really want me to be the sub, I guess I'm fine with it. But aren't you forgetting something, first?"

Yahagi paused. She would not get sucked into mind games. There were no fishing lines set up – she'd caught Nezumi by surprise – and there was no way Nezumi could trick her.

Yet she took the bait anyways. "What am I forgetting?"

"The safeword," Nezumi said, innocently. "In case you take it too far."

"I think you're the one taking it too far, Nezumi."

"Proper procedure. We immerse ourselves, as soon as these handcuffs are on, so it needs to be decided on now."

"There will be no immersion."

"I know a suitable word. You could say this whole affair began when I kicked you, back at our first meeting. You were distracted, then, weren't you? Looking at something on the ground?"

The six pronged piece of metal, which she now kept on her desk. She would need to remove it, and toss it in the garbage, as soon as she got back to the dorm. There was already enough to remember the thief by – the feel of her body straddling Yahagi's, and the feeling of their lips pressed together.

"Jack," Nezumi said, before clicking the handcuffs closed around her hands.

"Come over here," Yahagi said.

"Yes, master."

"Don't call me master," Yahagi said, gritting her teeth. She would _not_ be turned on by this inappropriate behaviour. She would focus. She would get Nezumi into the car, drive her to Sumiko's, and then discuss with her about what to do. There was no point handing Nezumi to the chief of police, if he would ultimately decide to let her go, or let her off easy.

Nezumi recoiled. "I – I'm sorry ma'am. Please don't hurt me. I – how should I refer to you?"

"Enough."

"Yes, ma'am," she squeaked, looking down at the floor.

"Out the door. If you break into a run, I'm not going to hesitate. I'm going to shoot you, and nobody will care. Your body will be burned and your name forgotten. You're worthless. You're trash-"

 _Ah_. She might have been getting carried away. Nonetheless, she couldn't control her thoughts. It was like when someone said not to think of a polar bear – of course she would.

Nezumi nodded in accordance with the command, and moved towards the door in small, timid steps.

Her heart rate increased as Nezumi approached, and then peaked in the moment where Nezumi was closest, but the thief didn't act. She shuffled past, obediently – not even looking at Yahagi. Just before arriving at the door, however, she tripped and fell to the ground with a yelp, followed by a muttered swear.

"Get up," Yahagi said.

"My foot – fuck. I can't."

Yahagi approached. "You only need one foot to stand. Suck it up."

"Yes – yes master – ma'am, I mean. I'm sorry, ma'am." Nezumi tried to stand, but failed, falling back to her knees with a frustrated groan. "I think I sprained it."

Yahagi sighed, pocketing her gun. It was pathetic to see Nezumi so weak, and she was already handcuffed. It was a won battle.

"Here," Yahagi said, outstretching her hand. "You're a terrible thief."

Nezumi reached out, took hold of her hand, and pulled. "And you're a terrible cop."

Yahagi had braced herself to help Nezumi up, but wasn't prepared for being intentionally dragged to the floor, and she only had time to bring up her left arm to attempt to break the fall, before she hit the concrete.

In a matter of seconds, Nezumi was atop her – and yes, it was now following one of her theories she'd had, about how things would play out – and she struggled, but Nezumi had little patience for defiance. She took hold of Yahagi's shirt, and hiked it up to her breasts. Yahagi thought it would stop there, but Nezumi had something else in mind.

"Arms up," Nezumi commanded.

Once her shirt was off, Nezumi quickly rolled it up and wrapped it around her head, blocking off her vision. A makeshift blindfold, presumably so Nezumi could remove her balaclava.

Yahagi didn't see Nezumi's reasoning behind putting so much effort into concealing her face. Her gender was already known, and her hair – Yahagi was pretty confident – was brown, though the length wasn't all that obvious, as it was probably crammed into her balaclava and hidden by the coat's hood. And since their first meeting, Nezumi's green eyes were something that Yahagi knew.

"We're the lowest of the low, aren't we? Criminals. You hate us. And to be defiled by us, that's the worst, isn't it?" Nezumi said, running cold hands along Yahagi's body. She shivered at the touch, even more so whenever the metal of the handcuffs made contact with her skin. "This is the third time you've lost to me. I think it fitting that I make you mine."

"Make me yours?" Yahagi said.

Nezumi didn't answer right away. Instead, she brought her mouth to Yahagi's midriff, gently tracing her lips along the skin, moving upwards.

While Yahagi might have preferred it going in the other direction, where her desire was beginning to grow, she was content with the current affairs. There was no other way to say it, and there was no hedging the truth – she'd been corrupted – or perhaps always was – and she wanted Nezumi's touch. She also wanted the feeling of success from putting Nezumi behind bars, but she couldn't have both, and the current seemed so much more exhilarating than any arrest she could make.

She held her breath as she felt Nezumi continue past her belly button, and then arrive at her bra – where Yahagi then tried to lift her chest, so it could be unclasped at the back, but Nezumi pushed her back down.

"Ownership," the thief whispered, placing her hands against either side of Yahagi's neck. She could feel the cold press of metal across her neck, from the chain between the cuffs, but it didn't get in the way of her now erratic breathing – though she might not have complained, if it had – and then Nezumi leaned in, and kissed her.

Yahagi didn't hesitate. She lifted her head as much as she could, leaning into it – perhaps with a little too much eagerness, because she felt Nezumi pull back for a second, before fully committing. Maybe it was true what they said – blind one sense, and the others become stronger – because Yahagi loved the contact, and wanted more. And she got more. Nezumi's tongue entered into the kiss, pushing its way into Yahagi's mouth.

It explored, ignoring her own tongue, and Yahagi forgot about everything else, content to savor everything Nezumi had to offer her. And when she tried to involve her own tongue, Nezumi pulled out of the kiss. Yahagi gasped for air and then tried to lean in for more, but a single finger pressed against her lips, pushing her head back down.

"This is how it should be – not the other way around."

She heard the sound of metal scratching against metal, and then hands returned to her body, but as they traced her figure, Yahagi realized they were too far apart to be handcuffed. Nezumi had gotten free, probably from the key in her pocket which would have been trivial to remove at any time since she'd been put on the ground.

The scrapes on her arm from the fall, and the embarrassment of the moment – of being tricked and manhandled, and then violated – should have upset her, but she was a lost cause. Everything unacceptable only made it better. Her own breathing was laboured, and she didn't know if she should try to regulate it or not – but with each passing second she grew more and more doubtful that she could, even if she wanted to, because Nezumi was becoming more and more aggressive in her exploration of Yahagi's body.

And then her fingers came to the zipper on Yahagi's pants, and both girls froze.

"You think you deserve it?" Nezumi said.

Yahagi nodded. Even the pressure against her, from Nezumi's sitting atop her, felt good every time the thief shifted her position.

"I think you're getting ahead of yourself," Nezumi whispered against her skin. "You're mine. Now, where do you want it? Somewhere visible, of course, so everybody knows."

She ran her tongue from Yahagi's shoulder, along her collarbone, and then to her neck. There, she kissed, and then pulled at the skin with her teeth, causing Yahagi to gasp.

"I wonder," Nezumi said, pulling away momentarily. "How much of this is pain, and how much is pleasure, for you? Or are they one and the same?"

She returned to the skin and began sucking at it. An involuntary moan left Yahagi's lips, and when Nezumi finally pulled away, she didn't need a mirror to know what the end result was.

"It's been sealed," Nezumi said. "You're mine, and if you want to reap the rewards of belonging to me, you'll listen. You'll stay out of my way, for the next couple of weeks, and I'll reward you. Maybe a late night visit – we'll see how quiet you can stay, while I get a taste of you in your own dorm, next to your sleeping roommate. Or maybe I'll bring a gag, when your roommate is out, and see if we can't get your neighbours to hear your moans."


	15. Fleas

The bus was crowded – an oddity, on any other day of the year – and the three of them sat on two seats to avoid being crammed against a stranger with bad body odor.

Yahagi had tried to protest to this, because she'd had a hard time keeping a clear head since meeting Nezumi and both Noshiro and Sakawa were very attractive. Especially when they wore sleeveless shirts because of the sweltering heat. In the end, she had given up and took the test in stride, staring forward unwaveringly for the entire ride.

Everyone disembarked at one stop, ten minutes out of town. There was nothing special about the place, at first glance. It was a single lane road, no sidewalk, in a forested part of the island. Old stone steps led up a mountain, at the top of which was a neglected shrine that people still visited, yet today the crowd of people were focused on something else.

Yahagi, Sakawa, and Noshiro were swept up with the crowd, as they began to walk.

They passed parked vehicles that partially blocked the road, and people carrying large boxes, and as they grew closer to the destination, the air itself strummed with energy. It was an unfamiliar sensation – one she might have imagined would manifest if she were walking to the front lines of a bloody war – and as her heart beat faster she found the need to continually wipe the palms of her hands on her skirt.

"How much you bring?" Sakawa said, leading the way. She had a completely different demeanor – excitement, sure, but also confidence. She was happy.

Noshiro had been oddly silent, since they had decided to make the trip, and whether it was out of discomfort or disinterest, she didn't seem likely to answer the question.

"Enough," Yahagi said.

Sakawa shook her head with a laugh. "You can't ever have enough, not for Numachi. Even if I were to save for all three hundred and sixty four days of the year, I'd still not have enough."

Without warning, Sakawa stepped to the side of the road, and nodded.

Down the hill, there was a clearing in the trees. Decades ago, it had been a swamp, heavily inhabited by wildlife. The Flooding had changed the region's climate enough to dry the basin out, and it was now swarming with people. Some vehicles had made it down into the basin, probably through an unseen back road, and at first glance, it might have been mistaken for the chaos of war. Structures were being erected, stalls both small and large, made of whatever material people had available – wood, plastic, cardboard, metal – and boxes upon boxes of items were piled on the ground. Thousands of people were present, milling about and talking and moving things.

"Isn't that a sight?" Sakawa said, leading the way along a path down into the valley.

Yahagi nodded, in too much awe to contribute to the conversation.

At the base of the trail – the opening of the basin – a large sign was erected.

Yahagi tried to read the messy writing and arrows on the hastily made diagram. It was a map, showing that the place had at least attempted to organize itself. All around her, the site was buzzing with action. Hundreds of people were entering the clearing every minute, despite it already being heavily crowded, and the police presence tried to make order of it all, but were simply overwhelmed by the energy.

The event took place only once a year, yet it had somehow become the island's greatest event in less than a decade. It was a relatively new tradition, yet everyone flocked to the site – not only the people of Nomi, but of all the surrounding cities, and the capital, too.

For a single day, a makeshift city would be erected, with every item imaginable, from jewellery and treasure salvaged from submerged cities, to weapons and furniture and clothing. The Numachi flea market was the world's largest open air market, and for one, fleeting moment in a world at war, this odd gathering of people would exist, where anything could be bought or sold, and then by the next day, it would all be dismantled, the only evidence remaining of the event being a glade of flattened grass.

"Clothing first," Sakawa announced, pointing to the top left corner of the map.

Nobody was going to object – not that she waited for any complaints or other suggestions, and they spent the next twenty minutes fighting their way through the crowd. Sakawa's advice to bring a water bottle had been well informed. The heat from the sun and the bodies grouped together in the valley had her perspiring before they'd even made it halfway, and if she had been alone, with no one to judge her, she would have stopped at one of the many roofed stalls that offered shade.

There were even tented areas with fans powered by massive generators that roared and forced everyone in the vicinity to shout if they wanted to be heard. Sakawa was undeterred by the noise and the crowd – a true flea-market savant, if Yahagi was to judge.

That was, until they found themselves surrounded by bears and wolves and other furry creatures with cloudy, unblinking eyes, petrified mouths, and too-pink tongues. It was then that Yahagi realized _who_ was leading them. Overwhelmed by the sheer size and activity of the market, she had contentedly followed Sakawa, and they had somehow arrived at the taxidermy stalls. It was in _a_ corner of the basin, but the wrong corner.

Sakawa turned, putting her hands on her hips. "I think the map at the entrance was wrong."

"Noshiro," Yahagi said, turning on the only person who she shouldn't have been mad at. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why would I?" Noshiro said, petting a bear.

"I was dragged through a hellish crowd for _this_?"

Noshiro put a finger in the bear's mouth, pausing expectantly before tapping its tongue a couple times. "Yuck. I like it."

Yahagi groaned and began pacing amongst the ghastly fabrications.

"Calm down, Yahagi," Sakawa said, approaching a table.

She picked up a leather case and opened it. Inside were a bunch of torture tools, and Yahagi diverted her eyes. There were a few clouds in the sky, and if they were lucky, they might get some shade within the next half hour. She wiped her forehead and growled.

"Let's go. I don't like this place."

When neither girl answered, she opened her mouth again – to complain or threaten, she didn't know – but before she could say anything, she got a response. It was in the form of the fattest, ugliest rat she had ever seen, appearing in front of her close enough that its whiskers tickled her cheeks. Failing to actually form words, she screeched, stumbling away from the monstrosity and falling to the ground. Noshiro pulled it away, laughing.

"Put that _thing_ back, or I swear I'll – I'll-"

"You'll what?" Sakawa said, joining in with a grin after managing to catch her breath. "You'll deafen her with another screech?"

"I didn't know such a timid girl could make such a sound," Noshiro said.

Yahagi took a deep breath – she had no threat she could make against her so-called friends – and rose to her feet, wiping the grass off her skirt.

* * *

Noshiro took the lead, perhaps as an apology for the stunt she pulled – though she certainly didn't look ashamed for having embarrassed Yahagi – and they were making good time when Sakawa leapt forward and grabbed Noshiro's arm, halting their progress through the crowd.

"Look sharp," she said. "Military chicks."

Six of them, in a tight knit group, crossed in front of them. It was easy to tell they were in the army. The green slacks had become an odd sort of fashion statement, especially in the market's sweltering temperatures, but they were a sign of status. Nobody wanted to get in the army's way.

The Grand Marshal General – the emperor himself – favoured the army's soldiers over the navy's, so even though they had a smaller budget, they had more political sway. The smaller size of the army also meant, in many peoples' eyes, that the army was more elite. The navy, however, had a different point of view. Because the navy acted as the first line of defense against the Abyssals, the army was a much safer job. It was more cowardly, some of the braver seamen would whisper behind closed doors.

Five of the girls had a single gold star on their collar – privates – and they were led by an older woman with a gold stripe and silver star – a corporal. But it didn't look like they were there to assist the police. Some of them were already carrying bags of their purchases, and as they passed in front, their focus was entirely on the stalls and items for sale.

Thankfully so, because considering Noshiro and Sakawa's behaviour today, they probably wouldn't have backed down if conflict began to brew. Without exchanging any words, Sakawa released Noshiro's arm, and they continued through the market.

The next interruption was Noshiro's fault. In an aisle of paintings and picture frames, she drew to a stop at a table with art supplies. With a masked expression she ran a finger along an old easel set up next to the table.

"You want it?" Yahagi said.

As though her words startled Noshiro, the girl quickly withdrew her finger and looked up.

"No," she said flatly.

"Can you paint?" Yahagi said.

It was a good opportunity to learn more about her roommate, and anyways, Sakawa was distracted by something several stalls over, so they wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.

"No. We've had this conversation before, haven't we?" Noshiro said. "Fucking Abyssals."

"You should buy it," Yahagi said.

"No."

"Why not? If it's too expensive, I can pitch in." The offer could be construed as odd, and Yahagi floundered for a second, looking for an excuse. "If you paint me," she added.

"No," Noshiro repeated, turning away from the stall. "We don't have time for hobbies. And besides, I won't be around long enough to make good use of it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You really don't see this as a competition, do you? We're competing against each other. Quit trying to be so friendly."

"Competing?" Yahagi echoed, annoyed at her roommate's sudden change in tone. "Are you sure you're actually in the running? You spend more time drunk than not. What do they say, 'actions speak louder than words'?"

"Fucking spot on," Noshiro spat. "I've been sitting around waiting for too long. Since I left Canada, four years ago, I haven't seen or heard from my family. I'm taking action, now."

"Your family?" Yahagi said, her anger falling apart.

Noshiro groaned. "Forget it. Let's go, before we lose Sakawa in the crowd."

She marched off before Yahagi could even think to get a better explanation.

They found Sakawa in front of an art stall, entranced by an oil painting of Entertainer, floating above the ocean's dark blue swirl.

The Entertainer was one of the Abyssal's three capital ship that had descended to Earth on October 25th, 1936. Though the painting itself lacked any interesting detail, it hadn't failed in portraying the sheer size of the ship, with countless small lights along its dark gray hull, making it look more like a starry night sky than a spaceship. Even though everyone knew the capital ships were massive – the size of a large city – nobody had gotten close enough to make an accurate estimate. Those who did, never survived to tell of it.

"Who would actually buy a painting of our mortal enemy?" Sakawa whispered.

"I don't know," Noshiro said, crossing her arms. "But it could serve as a damn good reminder."

Sakawa probably didn't notice, though she kept trying to make conversation as they rejoined the flow of the crowd, but Noshiro's mood was obviously soured.

If it was true that Noshiro's family was in Canada, then what exactly was she doing half a world away? And for four years? How did she even know her family was still alive? And why the Kantai Project, if she wanted to leave the country any time soon?

But Yahagi couldn't ask her any of these questions, and for the first time in her life, she felt truly sick for who she was. She had never needed to worry about her family – even her extended family was well off and lived in the capital, and here she was, deceiving all her peers and playing the part of a poor orphan. All because she had wanted to make friends. She felt both physically disgusting, from all the sweating she had done all day, and inwardly disgusting, for having such twisted ideals and such an easy, laid back life.

"Filles," Sakawa said, momentarily scaring Yahagi into thinking she'd vocalized her thoughts.

But instead, Sakawa was pointing to a jewellery stand, where two girls stood, examining necklaces. The brown haired one was a step behind, holding a parasol above them and shading them from the sun. They weren't the only people around to use parasols, but it still differentiated them from the rest of the crowd.

"Buying diamonds," Sakawa said. "A little clichéd, no? Well, I suppose they have a reputation to maintain."

"Filles?" Yahagi forced herself to say. "How do you know? You recognize them?"

"The Kawaguchi sisters, Kumano and Suzuya. They live in the apartment near the campus, with a bunch of other students. It's like the rich bitch dorm."

"Rich bitch," Noshiro echoed, though she said nothing more.

Weren't the Abyssals supposed to be their enemy? Not the army and the rich?

The clothing section, adjacent to the jewellery, did justice to the flea market's reputation. They had wedding dresses and sundresses, scarves and hats and toques, shoes and sandals and steel-toed boots and cowboy boots complete with spurs, and towels and blankets.

There was every style of coat, too, and she froze when she saw a coat that looked exactly like the one Nezumi wore. It shouldn't have, but it made her wish it was night already. Based on the documents she had acquired, she was positive Nezumi would be striking tonight, and they would have another encounter. Even after being threatened – or promised, she wasn't sure – she would rather face off against Nezumi than be around a sulking Noshiro.

As the thought crossed her mind, she happened to glance at her roommate, who was looking directly at her. Green eyes, Yahagi noted. They were more alert than usual. Maybe she hadn't been drinking recently and Yahagi's comment about being drunk all the time had stung all the more because of it. In either case, it seemed green eyed girls were both heavy drinkers and problematic for her.

"Noshiro," she began.

"Don't," Noshiro warned. "Forget what I said earlier. It was a bad joke." She lifted a winter jacket up, checking the inside material. "My family is dead. All of them. I mean, I was serious about not being around long – my grades are in the middle of the pack – but just _don't_."

"I'm sorry."

Noshiro balled the jacket up and threw it at her, before turning to Sakawa. "You said you wanted to buy a gun, right? Let's go."

"Hold on," Yahagi said, setting the jacket aside. "A gun? Why haven't I heard about this?"

"I did tell you," Sakawa said. "My security job this weekend."

"Why not just keep borrowing from the school?"

"I have a small budget," Sakawa said, ignoring the question. "So are you going to help me or not?"

Yahagi hesitated. "Not all guns shoot the same – you were doing good with the Hamada Type."

"Good girl," Sakawa said, clapping her on the shoulder and simultaneously pushing her forward. "Now go and sniff me out one of those. They can do an Abyssal in, right?"

"I don't know – not many people get up and close with an Abyssal, and if they do, they're either dead or have better than a handgun."

Noshiro pushed her way between the two girls, wrapping her arms around their shoulders. It seemed she'd already moved on from their earlier conversation. "Textbook says a shot to their eye socket will do 'em in, any gun, any caliber."

Yahagi frowned. "That doesn't paint a pretty picture."

"Red and messy," Sakawa said. "Just the way I like 'em."

The first difference Yahagi noticed in the weapons section of the market was the higher police presence. Though, after they'd walked past the first few stalls, it became apparent that the police weren't all on the clock. Officers were given liberty with what weapons they carried – many had personalized guns and preferences – and it seemed the Numachi flea market's offering was too great to ignore. But they weren't just on the customer side of transactions. One of the largest stalls was manned by the Ono police branch, according to the sign hanging from above.

As expected, there were countless firearms, explosives, and other gear for sale. Yahagi felt it was an unequivocally bad idea to go anywhere near the place, but neither Sakawa nor Noshiro showed any signs of hesitation as they transitioned from the field of furniture to the tables upon tables of lethal weapons.

When Yahagi tried to slow down and deviate from the path, Noshiro fluidly slipped an arm around her waist and assisted in keeping her on course. It was too much skinship for her, and she quickly corrected her course so the Noshiro would remove her hands.

At a nearby table, a grenade fell to the ground, and when she was the only one who flinched, she realized the world had gone mad. An old man bent down, picked the grenade up, and placed it back to the same spot on the table, where it began to roll again.

Noshiro stopped them in front of the Ono police stall. "Surplus?"

"Ridiculous," Sakawa muttered.

"Are they your enemy too?" Yahagi said.

"Huh?"

"The army, half the Kantai Project, the Abyssals," Yahagi said. "I just thought you'd hate the police, too."

"Rich bitches are bitches – I have good reason to hate them. But the police?" Sakawa crossed her arms. "No. I've run into some good ones, once or twice."

"Handcuffs," Noshiro said, picking a pair off the table. "Selling these, too? Something something budget problems?"

One of the police officers, a handsome young man, leaned forward and laughed heartily. "It's like that, but not as bad as you'd think. It's a good thing, really, that crime is on the decline."

As the man and Noshiro continued talking, Noshiro began spinning the cuffs around her finger, and Yahagi was reminded of the cold metal against her skin, Nezumi's breath, and her lips-

"Are you okay?" Sakawa said.

-and then her tongue, forcing its way into her mouth, combined with the pressure of Nezumi straddling her waist-

"You don't look so well."

Ah, it was all Nezumi's fault. She had been a good girl, always polite and always getting good grades in school, and adults loved to coo over her. Even if she hadn't had many friends or much of a social life, she had been _normal_. Now, even seeing handcuffs was enough to make her loose grip on reality and cause unbidden fantasies to sprout in her mind.

"Let's get you out of the sun, it looks like you're burning up."

She was burning up. She was going to Hell, for being tainted, and there, she would be left, forgotten, tortured for an eternity.

"Hey, hold on. Whoa-"

Hold on to what? She was falling too fast. All it took was two weeks, out of a thousand, for it to happen. But if she couldn't stop falling, and if she was doomed, then why not embrace it?

* * *

Yahagi sat up and looked around. She was on a bed, in a tent, with a fan blowing cold air directly on her face. The cold felt good, though it only strengthened her thirst. There were other cots around her, with people sleeping in them.

"You passed out," Sakawa said, handing her an unopened water bottle.

She opened it, taking several generous gulps. "Noshiro?"

"Still talking to that guy. I don't even think she's even realized we've left." Sakawa grinned. "Let's give her some space, okay? If I didn't know better, I'd say she's going to score some, tonight."

Yahagi dropped her head back down to the pillow. It had been a bad idea to have any expectations. At all. Of anything. The Kantai Project. Herself. Friends. The Abyssals, too, probably weren't as they seemed. The entire world was a mess of secrets and disappointments.

"Yahagi?"

She opened her eyes again, because it wasn't Sakawa who had said her name. The voice stirred up memories of her childhood, playing in a large backyard with her dog, while her babysitter watched with an amused expression. And yes, now her babysitter was here, staring down at her with wide eyes.

At first glance, Sumiko was a woman who could be mistaken for a man. Her hair was cut short, she had wide shoulders and her arms all brawn, and a tight fitting tank top hid her chest size. She was, as they said, a butch. Her personality was equally as masculine, and Yahagi had broken more than one bone, following along with her babysitter's crazy ideas.

Yahagi worked her mouth, staring at Sumiko, and then Sakawa. It would be very bad if those two met. Even if she was going to give in to Nezumi, no good would come of letting her old life and new life meet each other.

Her terror must have shown in her eyes, because Sakawa stood up, eyeing Sumiko suspiciously. Thankfully, Sumiko didn't say anything further, and Sakawa seemed to come to a conclusion of her own.

"Old friend?" Sakawa said. "I get it. I'll leave you two alone. I'm out of cash anyways, so I'll head back to the academy. See you there."

"What are you doing in here?" Sumiko said.

"I passed out."

"I thought you were a little healthier than that. Didn't you get accepted into the navy's experimental program thingy?"

"Yes."

"And I heard you were chasing a thief around the island. Some officers are calling it a vendetta, and the Nomi headquarters has a pool going. You think maybe you're putting too much on your plate?"

"Probably."

"Do you want a ride back into town?"

"Please." She had so easily slipped back to her old self, with her terse manner of speech. "Kantai Academy."

"The academy itself? You don't have an apartment?"

Yahagi shook her head. "They don't know about my family."

For all her muscle, Sumiko wasn't lacking a bit in brains. That was why she was one of the best cops on the island. "I read about it in the newspaper last year. That horrible attack, and how there's a divide in the program. You're saying you jumped the fence."

"Yes."

"That's not safe."

"I've realized that."

Their conversation continued in a similar vein, Sumiko chastising her for all her stupidity – though Yahagi left the salacious details of her encounters with Nezumi out – and by the time their conversation slowed, they were already in Sumiko's jeep and driving towards Nomi.

"You could have stopped by my place at any time. You know you're always welcome there," Sumiko said, keeping her eyes on the road.

"Yes."

"Rather than risk, well, whatever that was. She was a friend?"

"Yes."

"And she doesn't know about your family?"

"No."

"Alright. Nothing much you can do about that, but let's fix one of your problems, at least. You need backup to bring Nezumi in. Take me along – I think there's a couple shipments of gold on the island, tonight. Do you know which he's going to strike at?"

"I don't need help with that," Yahagi said. And then she realized what an opportunity it was, being able to talk with Sumiko. She took a deep, silent breath, and with that breath, she tried to absorb some of the world's insanity. "Sumiko. Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course you can."

"How – how exactly does that work? Dating girls, I mean."

Sumiko frowned. "Listen – I'm close with your mother, so I don't think it would be a good idea. I've known Hara for so long-"

Yahagi punched her, and she laughed.

"Kidding – even if you are my type, that would be weird. We're practically sisters. How does it work, you ask? Like any other relationship – though you keep it on the down low around the Repopulists."

The fanatics who were concerned with humanity dying out. Yahagi scrunched her nose. Their theory made sense for long term survival of humanity – every woman should have at least three children, to make up for deaths from the Flooding and the Abyssals – but their methods were unpleasant. They pressured others to follow their beliefs, and the worst of them – cultists – would have their females constantly pregnant and popping out children. The problem was, unfortunately, that they didn't have the resources to raise so many children, so the quality of life in Repopulist communities tended not to be all that great.

It went without saying that they loathed gays and lesbians, and they often went to violent lengths to punish them for perceived transgressions. But they were the few, and around Nomi there was only a couple small communities. The east coast was supposedly worse.

"I – that's not exactly what I wanted to know." Yahagi focused her eyes forward. "I was wondering about when it becomes more – more physical."

"I see, I see," Sumiko said, though she didn't put much effort into hiding her surprise. "There's no reason to be embarrassed – though I don't know how much that means, coming from me. For starters, have you ever touched yourself? It's good practice for pleasuring a partner. If you can't even make yourself feel good, how can you expect to be able to make your partner feel good?"

The rest of the drive consisted of a beet red Yahagi, and a very impassive Sumiko who took it upon herself to educate Yahagi in all the details of such a relationship.

* * *

She didn't know why she was doing it, so Yahagi fell back on one simple fact: crime was bad. And that was why she was again in a warehouse, sitting on a crate, waiting for Nezumi.

It was easy, because the thief always went after gold, and there was only so much gold being transported around the island. The police claimed they didn't have resources to get Nezumi, but Yahagi sometimes wondered if maybe they were just lazy, or there was some other force opposing them.

"Are you even trying, anymore?"

Yahagi started. Turning around, she saw a figure looming over her in the darkness.

"I told you not to get in my way, and you do, but really, are you even trying?"

As bad as Yahagi was at her job, Nezumi wasn't much of a criminal, either. She'd had multiple opportunities to hurt Yahagi, but had only ended up kissing her instead. Yahagi wisely decided not to say that, and instead focused on what Nezumi had in hand. A Type 94 pistol. Last time, she hadn't been close enough to see exactly what it was.

"I'm not picky about my guns," Nezumi said, noticing the stare. She pocketed the weapon. "Just needed to make sure about your motives, before I let my guard down."

"And?"

"And I mean, you're an open book. But fine, if you're so eager to lose your first time to a criminal on the hard, dirty floor of a warehouse, I won't object."

This was where Yahagi was supposed to make her own objection, and pull her own weapon and put an end to it all. But Nezumi didn't wait. She approached, grabbed Yahagi by her shirt, and shoved her off the crate and onto the ground.

In seconds, Nezumi was on top of her, and she was being blindfolded with an item she hadn't even had a chance to see. It didn't entirely block her vision, but it did a good enough job.

There was nothing romantic about the situation, and if there had been, it would have felt _more_ wrong.

Nezumi pulled her shirt up. Her actions were impatient and rough as she unclasped Yahagi's bra and tossed it aside. The warehouse's cold air against her skin tingled, and then Nezumi's tongue was on her chest, licking a line down between her breasts.

She gasped, but Nezumi didn't even begin working her way to Yahagi's nipples before her pants were unzipped. And then a finger was toying with the band of her panties, but not going any further.

"You're a naughty girl," Nezumi said.

When Yahagi realized Nezumi was waiting for an answer, she bit her lower lip and nodded, but still Nezumi didn't move.

"Say it."

Yahagi's face burned a deeper shade of red. "I – I'm a naughty girl."

Nezumi smiled – or rather, Yahagi imaged she was smiling. "Naughty, indeed. But naughty girls get rewards too."

Her hands returned to Yahagi's pants and her fingers ghosted over top her undergarments, not yet applying any meaningful pressure despite how rushed Nezumi was being about everything else.

Without warning, a finger flicked her left nipple and teeth bit her right and she cried out, and at the same time Nezumi pressed against her panties, and though the foreplay hadn't been going on for all that long, she knew her panties were already becoming soaked. She had been daydreaming about this much too long.

Yahagi desperately wished there wasn't anything between Nezumi's fingers and her body, but at the same time, the teasing was growing her desire. If she knew anything about Nezumi, it would be awhile before she got what she wanted. To her dismay, however, Nezumi pulled away, and rubbed her fingers together, examining them.

"Wet," she finally said. "You're wet."

Yahagi squirmed. "Enough gloating."

Nezumi returned her hand to Yahagi's pants, but stopped before going any further.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered, her head snapping up.

"What?" Yahagi said, not able to hear anything beyond her own erratic heart beat.

"They're here," Nezumi said, and there was horror in her voice.

* * *

 **A/N** : This took much too long to get done. I'll try to up the pace. And in the meantime, I'm open to pairing suggestions, though it may be awhile before any get included in the story.


	16. Spiders

Nezumi ran. She forgot the poor, confused girl on the ground, and ran.

But her running felt like flailing limbs guided by a dormant brain, and not even a minute passed before she stumbled against the warehouse wall and threw a backwards glance. She didn't see them, or anyone. It was late enough that nobody would be working in the area. Patrols, separated by a half hour, would pass through the area, but there were almost ten more minutes before it became a concern.

No, people weren't her concern. The tap dancers were. She could hear them, the nimble _clack-clack-clacking_ as they scurried through the harbour.

They weren't visible yet – sometimes never were, even when the sound resonated in her ears as though her body were ethereal and they were running straight through her – but that thought didn't stop her eyes from darting back and forth.

Where would she go? Where _could_ she go? There was no escaping them. She dropped her bag and clapped her hands against her ears, but it didn't help. There were more than she could count – innumerable. An army approaching.

Her hands wouldn't stop shaking, even as she pressed them harder against her head, and she didn't know what was going to happen. She didn't know if she could just curl up in a ball and hide her head and it would all pass, or if she had to cut off her own ears to make it stop, or throw herself into the water and hope the tap dancers couldn't swim.

If any of those solutions offered her refuge from their hauntings, she would do it without hesitation.

But for now, she had to move.

For now, she had to delay the inevitable.

Scrambling to her feet – not knowing when she'd collapsed to the ground – she left the warehouse and looked around, only to realize her hands were empty. She had to go back for her bag. Upon re-entering the warehouse, she first saw her bag, and then she saw _them_. It sucked her breath away, and her hand instinctively went to her heart, but that didn't help her situation.

It was insane. It was insane, even if they weren't going to bite her, tickle her, suspend her from her legs, and wrap her up for dinner later. Even if they wouldn't do anything but chase and watch, it was insane and it sent her heart racing until she began to wonder if, after all, she wasn't too young to have a heart attack. But clutching at her chest wasn't a solution, and ignoring them was impossible, so she leapt forward, grabbed her bag of gold, and ran.

The closest one immediately began pursuit. _Clack, clack, clack_. Lime coloured legs chased her – eight of them in total – and they shone in the darkness like glowsticks. The hairy legs were long spindly things, longer than her own, and the body they held up was much too small – about the size of a tennis ball, and the same colour, too – which only made the spiders even more terrifying.

Outside, the wind chilled her, and she could feel the sweat on her body.

There was too much open ground, as compared to the warehouse, so it only got worse. They climbed the fences, dropped from roofs, appeared on the hills in the distance, and zipped up and over storage containers with alarming speed and a rapid, persistent clacking. It might have even been communication – a rapid fire Morse code they used between each other to better surround her – but knowing the intricacies of the tap dancers did her no good.

They weren't real – they couldn't be real – yet not for a second did she think she could let them catch her. She didn't know what would happen, except that it would be horrific, so she did the only thing she could – she continued running. Her mind raced through her options, and she read the names of the boats she passed along the docks, hoping she might find herself a salvage ship.

She passed a few docks, but didn't stop. None of the docked boats looked like they held what she wanted – what she _needed_. Finally, a boat caught her sight. It was a pathetic fireboat, something that didn't even look seaworthy, but attached to it was something very promising. A large barge with old wooden crates, and one of them was open. She could see the bottles reflecting the moon's light, and she changed course for the boat.

Hairy green legs reached out of the water, and up onto the docks. Nezumi stopped and watched, completely frozen. That answered one question – they were aquatic tap dancers. They scrambled for traction before pulling their tiny bodies up onto land. Close enough that she could see a bunch of beady eyes on their small bodies, they paused on the cement to take in their surroundings, and Nezumi took advantage of the moment. She ran past them, nearly tripping when she mustered up enough courage to look behind her.

 _Clack, clack, clack._

It didn't take long for them to begin pursuit.

Though they could close the gap much faster than she would have liked, she was already at the boat. Across its hull, in old yellow letters, _Kasagami_ was written. There wasn't likely to be any better escape, so she jumped aboard without hesitation. During the jump, she chanced a look into the waters between dock and boat. They were in the water, too. Hundreds of writhing legs, like a nest of snakes. Some were under the waves and crawling up the dock's submerged pillars, others fighting to gain a grip on the _Kasagami's_ wet hull.

She swore as she made a rough landing on the ship, scraping her knees and hands on the deck. Her bad landing offered her a stroke of luck, however, as when she turned her head up, the first thing she saw was a crowbar. She retrieved it. The boat was attached to a large pontoon barge, with crates still bounded tightly to the cement. No spider had yet made it aboard the barge, so she jumped over to it.

With a suitable amount of desperation, she attacked the crates with the crowbar, ripping off whatever boards didn't look secure. By the time she finished, she saw the thin, green legs scrabbling for purchase on the barge's edge. Once one of the spiders got enough legs up, it would be able to haul itself over and rush her. From prior experience, she knew they were fast on flat ground.

While she didn't have arachnophobia – and somewhat amazingly, the tap dancers hadn't made her any more scared of regular spiders – these ones were an exception. Unnaturally large, with pincers big enough to tear chunks of skin out of her arms and legs, she knew her mind would find a way to conjure up the pain somehow, should she be caught.

Beady eyes glinted in the moon's light, and with a frenzy, she pulled a bottle free and tossed it at the nearest spider. The bottle flew through it and into the water. The next bottle she retrieved, she smashed against the cement, breaking the top off, and chugged as much as she could without cutting her lips on the broken glass.

The alcohol, her saviour, was a familiar warmth as it ran down her throat. If the crates had contained something else, she didn't know what she would have done.

Even as two of the spiders made their onto the barge, she kept drinking. It was bad stuff – a grain based brew, though not whiskey, and with a large percent of alcohol. A failed batch of moonshine, maybe. Nevertheless, it did the job. The two spiders paused, frozen in place. They watched with eyes intent.

She kept drinking, and the next time she blinked, the eyes were gone. She was alone again.

Nezumi breathed a sigh of relief.

It was all mental. She knew it was, but that didn't mean she could ignore it.

Grabbing as many bottles as she could, she crossed back over to the Kasagami. Picking the lock was trivial, and she set the bottles down on the table inside the small cabin. From her bag, she retrieved a gold piece and inspected it. As far as she could tell, it was real gold from the Keicho era, or thereabouts.

Collecting gold was only one small step in the grand plan. She would need to find a boat, and, possibly, a crew. There were so many variables and it made thinking of the future painful, so she focused on what she had now. Back at her stash was a large sum of money made from delivering the stolen gold to her employer. Adding today's loot, it was almost time to leave.

 _Leave_. The thought of Yahagi left with her pants half down in the middle of a warehouse, fearing she was about to be caught by a patrol, made Nezumi laugh. What a disaster. But at least it kept the girl out of her hair.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she licked her finger. For better or worse, they were soaked in alcohol from when she broke the first bottle open. But that didn't matter - she had no interest in the girl. It was a distraction, since threats didn't work.

Speaking of distractions, she needed one herself. Her body was still shaking from the encounter with the tap dancers.

Her eyes roamed the cabin. There was a deck of cards laying out on the table, but it was too dark to use them, not to mention she didn't know the rules to any patience games. Instead, a small metal safe tucked against the wall near the helm of the ship drew her attention. It would be good practice. She approached it, bringing her nose close enough to smell the rusted iron. Upon inspection, it appeared to not be a safe at all, but a waterproof strongbox. It was old, which meant it was easy to break into and ripe for the picking.

There was a metal handle and three rotating cylinders, showing numbers on their faces. The range was from zero to nine, and the combination had been left at four-four-five. She tried the handle and was unsurprised when it didn't open.

Putting her ear against the strongbox, she tried rotating the first piece. It was a futile effort; a stethoscope would be needed if she wanted even a chance to hear the gears clicking. Next, she searched for and found the manufacturer's label. None of the factory default combinations worked, but that wasn't surprising either. Her anticipation grew with each passing second.

It wasn't a tumbler based lock, but that didn't mean she was out of options. And she was even properly equipped for this sort of venture – the gold she'd just stolen had been locked away in a very similar fashion. There was a small gap between the gear housing and the dials, and one of her specialized metal tools fit perfectly inside. In minutes, she had the handle obeying her will.

On top of her newest treasure was a gun. Those weren't a rare commodity, and she set it aside to pick up a book. Flipping through it, she found blank pages. On the first few pages, however, there was content. Hand writing. A diary. She grinned as she went to the first entry.

* * *

 _Captain Conor M_ _acKetian's Log._

 _Saturday, September 9_ _th_ _, 1939_

 _Operation Poit_ _í_ _n, Day 1_

 _For the sake of written history and humankind I record these details in the case of my death._

 _If what Ian has told me is true then our actions could determine the fate of humanity. They are heavy words to write but no heavier than the weight on my mind these past few days. Though Ian and Hugh have stressed utmost secrecy I feel obligated to write here what we have done and what we will do because our survival is not guaranteed. Those who live beyond our time have a right to know the path we've chosen for the world._

 _Yesterday my friend Ian Reid approached me at the rink telling me we needed to talk. Complete secrecy. We've known each other for a long while so I knew he was serious. Turns out he had a job for us. An insane job. But he was relying on me and I couldn't abandon him. Later that same day he introduced me to Hugh. We spoke and for good or worse I believed every word that came out of his mouth. We hashed out the details of the plan._

 _None of this is by any means easy. We're working in secrecy under a tight budget. On the surface there is nothing illegal with our activities. I have the salvage rights of the Irish Hazel. We're being funded by Hugh. We're borrowing some tech from the imperial army (winches, webbings, metal detector, and the Tritonia). Hugh has assured us that the army doesn't care how its stuff is used so long as the papers are filled out properly when they're being removed from inventory._

 _Publicly we're salvaging alcohol from the Irish Hazel. For appearance's sake we have decided to retrieve as much as we can. We will report to the harbour master that the rest was destroyed or swept away by currents. This is Hugh's mission and it's draining his pockets so I am fine with this decision._

 _The wreck is about two hours off the coast. We started at six am this morning._

 _Our search lanes are 4 kilometers wide. We travel at just over 1 knot an hour. We covered 64 square kilometers today, and plan to match that on all subsequent days. I don't suspect it will take long to find the wreckage. These kinds of searches can be time consuming but we have accurate records of the location it sank and the right equipment to find it._

* * *

 _Sunday, September 10_ _th_ _, 1939_

 _Operation_ _Poitín_ _, Day 2_

 _My Hazel has still not shown herself. Hugh appears unconcerned but I am beginning to feel uneasy. I was in Ireland when it sank and received the message by courier. There had been no loss of life because everyone escaped by lifeboat but there is no way to contact them to verify information relating to the ship's final resting place._

 _The possibility that I had been deceived all those years ago has crossed my mind. The ship's true cargo was worth hundredfold what the alcohol was worth and if even a small contingent of the crewmen decided to they could have taken it aboard the lifeboats and scuttled the Irish Hazel knowing I wouldn't have the resources to salvage it – seven years ago there existed no technology to even safely visit the shipwreck._

 _Operation_ _Poitín's_ _success relies on the true cargo still being in place. If it is not we have wasted valuable time and resources locating the wreckage. It is Hugh's problem however and beyond this I do not want to get involved. I think I regret Ian approaching me, but I do not blame him. We have been friends too long. This kind of job is not one you can entrust to a stranger._

 _Monday, September 11_ _th_ _, 1939_

* * *

 _Operation_ _Poitín_ _, Day 3_

 _Funds running low. Early today I pulled Kasagami out of retirement and refitted her with the metal detectors. She is well built and serves our purpose plenty fine even if the cabin is a little crowded. It was slower going but we had little choice. Hugh says drawing any more attention would end badly for us. If we see no success tomorrow I am not sure what Hugh will do._

 _Marie – as Hugh insists it's called – is prisoner with the navy but we can't know how long things will stay that way. The Gero warehouse is not a safe place to keep it. If the navy decides to move it or if the army finally finds it we'll lose our opportunity. Hugh entertained the idea of seeking assistance from the Railways but I warned him they would insist on executing Marie._

 _Though I wonder if it will die soon anyways. It will be buried with anti submarine mines and anti personnel grenades. I couldn't get a reason out of Hugh for this and I am concerned (as much as one can be for an Abyssal) that the salt water will either render the explosives useless or set them off prematurely._

 _Tuesday, September 12_ _th_ _, 1939_

* * *

 _Operation_ _Poitín_ _, Day 4_

 _We found it. The metal detectors went crazy just before noon after only a couple hours of searching. Hugh fiddled with the dials and we ran back and forth over the area a half dozen times before we'd gotten a proper idea of where it was at the bottom of the sea. Thankfully it didn't break up and scatter across kilometers of water. We cut the day short and plan on returning tomorrow with a new hire to help with the salvaging._

 _This is when Ian's job begins._

 _He will enter the Tritonia and be lowered into the sea. His job is to find the shipwreck and begin making room for the Abyssal. He will need to find all the gold in the ship's hull and relocate it to a single room probably the captain's quarters. Assuming all the gold is still there it will be enough to build an approximation of a coffin out of gold bars._

 _Ian will need to simultaneously assist in loading the winch with crates of alcohol which we will bring to the surface for the new hire to handle._

 _We intend on spending two days preparing the gold room and salvaging alcohol. On the third day we will crate the Abyssal and transport_ _it across the island and onto the ship._

 _September 15_ _th_ _is the day. Hugh says the Abyssal will still be there. He says it's been prisoner this whole time waiting to be used in some kind of IJN experiment. We strike at ten pm. There are three guards on it at all times – two ranking navy men and a female to counter the Abyssal's telepathy. Hugh says we won't kill them unless the plan goes wrong. We load it on a truck and hightail it out of there. We get her aboard the Kasagami using the cover of darkness. Then we wait. At eight thirty Kasagami has permission to undock. We bring her to the Irish Hazel and lower her to the seafloor, where Ian will move her box into the prepared room of gold effectively silencing her existence._

 _Hugh has also said he wanted a few girls to accompany us on the final trip to prevent other Abyssals from finding us with telepathy. It goes to show how cautious of a man he is. One girl isn't good enough, and he wants at least two. I was feeling giddy from having found the wreck so I ended up volunteering getting the girls. Though now I regret this offer. If anything goes wrong it may cost them their lives. But I cannot back out now. I have a friend at Kantai Academy who should be able to send some of her students to help. Little do they know the navy will be helping us_ _steal from them._

* * *

Tonight, she wasn't sane.

 _Greater than gold._

The world danced beneath her feet, as if to prove her point, and she returned to the crates and downed another bottle before realizing no amount of alcohol would stop the ocean's waves.

Tonight, she had to question her own senses. That was the first step. Slowly, she reread the diary, tracing her finger along each line, silently mouthing each word like a child learning how to read. By the time she had finished, nothing had changed. Her understanding was the same, and the plan that had been planted in her mind on the first read through was already growing into a massive, intricate tree. Nezumi had stumbled upon something much, much greater than gold.

She could feel this in her whole body. A shiver that overtook her shaking, and then a warmth, in the Kasagami's cabin, even though the night was cold. This was a defining moment. An opportunity to act – to redeem the past few years of her life – and a moment to be brave and brash. Her prayers had been answered, and she wanted to shout for joy, to yell at the tap dancers, to scream into the night's sky that she _understood_ , and nobody would stop her until her own feet could no longer carry her forward.

Nezumi had renewed interest in the gun from the strongbox. She picked it up and turned it around in hand. If she'd been more well versed in weaponry, she might have been able to name it, but instead all she could do was dump all the bullets into the ocean. They sank quickly out of sight, and Nezumi returned the gun to the box, adjusting the diary so the contents looked untouched. If the gun was only a backup – as she suspected, since it was locked away and impractical to rely on as a primary weapon – then nobody would notice it had been emptied.

Her next job would be to somehow sabotage the ship without alerting them. It would take several days to covertly search the warehouses for the Abyssal – if it wasn't all some crackpot's story – and she couldn't let these men beat her to the kidnapping.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for all the pairing suggestions. I'll work as many as I can into the story in the future. For more about Nezumi's condition, do a search on _delirium tremens_.


End file.
